


by my side (when the rain comes pouring in)

by SailorChibi



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien Agreste Needs Help, Adrien Agreste Needs a Hug, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir Identity Reveal, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir Purrs, Adrien doesn't attend public school right away, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bantering, Character Death, Child Abuse, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, First Date, First Kiss, Flashing, Flirting, Gabriel Agreste is a shitty parent, Gabriel Agreste's A+ Parenting, Good Parents Sabine Cheng & Tom Dupain, Identity Reveal, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, LadyNoir - Freeform, Ladybug is in love with Chat Noir, Marinette Dupain-Cheng Finds Out First, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug Identity Reveal, POV Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Platonic sharing of a bed, Post-Reveal Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Post-Reveal Love Square, Protective Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Secret Identity Reveal, Slow Burn, So much flirting, Touch-Starved, Touch-Starved Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, adrien agreste is into fashion, adrien agreste love to design, but like innocent, discussion of child abuse, gabriel agreste dies, idk these kids seem to love flashing each other in this fic, like sixty percent of this fic happens after the reveal so, lowkey reveal, marinette dupain-cheng would like to drop kick gabriel in the face, no redemption for garbage people in this fic, not tagging this as major character death because gabriel is in it to die, platonic sharing of a couch, platonic sleeping together, sexy flirting and teasing, so Ladybug and Chat Noir meet each other first, supportive marinette dupain-cheng, the adrienette comes two years later, they gradually figure each other out, those are the three biggest changes that this fic makes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2019-10-16 07:52:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 81,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17545664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SailorChibi/pseuds/SailorChibi
Summary: Two years after Marinette got her miraculous, she meets Adrien Agreste for the first time. In spite of an initial gum-related bump in the road, they become fast friends thanks to their shared interest in fashion and design. But there's something funny about Adrien. He seems to suffer from terminal clumsiness just like Marinette, frequently sporting sprained wrists and ankles, new bruises, and other injuries. Injuries which look suspiciously similar to the ones that Ladybug's beloved partner has...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> One night I was thinking about Tony and Howard Stark, and I started wondering what would've happened if Gabriel's and Adrien's relationship was like that - if Adrien loved to design, and Gabriel was secretly afraid Adrien would surpass him someday. Thus, this fic was born.
> 
> Updates will be fairly regular as this if is already well over 60,000 words. I'm expecting it to end up somewhere around 75,000 words, so we're in for the long haul.

Almost two years to the day that Marinette got her miraculous, a new student joins their class. She and Adrien Agreste don't get off on the best foot. Marinette is suspicious of anyone that Chloé Bourgeois deems a friend, and Adrien is too nervous and soft spoken to correct her when she jumps to the conclusion that he's the one who put gum on her seat. The day is filled with tension and unease, and Marinette is ready to go home and scream into a pillow for a few _years_ when Adrien joins her on the front steps of Collège Françoise Dupont with an umbrella in hand.

But you know this story, right? Or so you think.

Adrien half-turns away from her, looking out into the pouring rain, and says, "I swear I didn't put that chewing gum on your chair. I'm used to trying to cover for Chloé. We were friends when we were kids. I guess it's a habit now." He peeks up at the sky, then twists to look at her. "I've never been to school before. I only have one friend. She means everything to me, but I'd like to make others. I'd like you to be my friend too, Marinette."

Oh. Marinette's heart turns over in her chest. She's speechless. Adrien's cheeks color when she stares at him.

"I... sorry. I'm not good at this. Was that weird?"

A sharp jab in her thigh, courtesy of Tikki, knocks Marinette out of her daze and she sputters, "I - n-no! That's not... I'll be your Adrien, friend. I-I mean, I'll be... be your _friend_ , A-Adrien."

Adrien smiles. "Really? Because Nino told me that you design..."

Marinette blinks at that. "Well, sort of. I mean I dabble. I've never done anything seriously."

"I design too," Adrien confesses, moving a little closer to her. His voice drops, and Marinette finds herself leaning in to hear every word. "My dad doesn't really like it, so I haven't had the chance to collaborate or even talk to any other designers. Do you think we could go get a coffee somewhere and talk for a little while? I would love to hear your thoughts on the spring collection."

"Sure!" Marinette exclaims, a thrill of excitement running through her. "I don't have to be anywhere until supper."

"Great. We can walk together, if you want?" Adrien makes a motion with the umbrella.

"Uh, okay." 

They step out from under cover together. Adrien holds the umbrella closer, so that it better covers Marinette, and she scoots closer when she realizes that he's not fully covered as a result. Their hands brush together as they walk, and it fills Marinette with a weird sort of warmth she can't put a name to. It sort of reminds her of the way she feels when Chat curls up in her lap like a kitten and falls asleep. But that's silly. Chat is her partner of almost two years and Adrien is just a new boy in her class. One of them is way more important to her than the other.

Adrien seems unfamiliar with the area, so Marinette leads the way to the nearest café that serves half-decent coffee. They find a seat in the back corner. Marinette pulls her sketchbook out of her backpack, but a sudden bout of shyness makes her hesitate. This is Adrien Agreste, the son of Gabriel Agreste. She doesn't know much about Adrien, but she knows that Gabriel is one of the biggest people in the business right now. As many daydreams as she's had about showing Gabriel her designs and having him in fall in love, she's had just as many nightmares where Gabriel hates everything she's done. Having his son hate her stuff would be almost as bad.

"I'll show you mine and you show me yours?" Adrien offers, pulling his own sketchbook out. His fingers tighten on the cover. "I, uh, apologize if my stuff isn't any good. Like I said, I don't really get the opportunity to talk to people much. Most of what I've learned is through tagging along to fashion shows, attending photoshoots, and eavesdropping on conversations that my father has with other people in the industry."

"I'm sure your stuff is great," Marinette says. She wants to ask why Gabriel doesn't like the fact that Adrien designs. That seems weird. But she doesn't want to seem like she's prying, either.

"I guess you can be the judge." Adrien slides his sketchbook across the table. After a split second pause, Marinette takes it and hands her own over.

She opens Adrien's sketchbook and sucks in a surprised breath at the first page. It's featuring a woman's suit that's cut more like a men's suit, with sharp angles and cuts. Yet there's something soft about it too, in the flow of the pants. Colors scribbled along the sides suggest that the suit will be blush pink with crème accents and a hint of sky blue on the interior of the jacket - all very in this year according to the magazines Marinette has read. She traces the hem of the pant, realizing that there's a slight cut-out at the bottom. Enough to show off the color of a shoe.

She flips to the next page and finds a woman's dress. The third page is of a man's tuxedo. Each page leaves her reeling. There's something fresh and unqiue about every design she flips to. It doesn't take her long to identify Adrien's signature; he uses a pop of bright green in every design. When she goes back to the first design, she spots thin green piping along the waistline of the pants. The second design has green polka dots on the skirt of the dress. The third design has a green handkerchief. And so on and so forth. 

It takes her a long time to go through the whole sketchbook. And when she's done, she immediately wants to go back to the first page and look through it all over again. She wants to spend _hours_ pouring through it, examining each page with the detail that it deserves. But she's keenly aware that she and Adrien don't have the time for that, so it's with regret that she lifts her gaze to look at the boy sitting across from her. Adrien's head is still bent to her sketchbook, eyebrows furrowed in concentration and lips moving silently - reading measurements, she realizes.

He notices her attention and stops, smiling sheepishly. "Um, sorry. Part of what I like about fashion is the math."

"Really?" Marinette says, wrinkling her nose.

He laughs a little. "Yeah, really. It's all very clear-cut, you see. You take all the measurements and then do your cutting. It's very precise. It has to be, or else your design won't turn out the way you want it to. I like how design combines creativity and order to make something brand new."

"I never thought about it like that," she admits. 

"Your designs are amazing, Marinette."

Marinette feels her cheeks turning pink. "Really?"

"Yeah. I especially like this one." Adrien opens her sketchbook to a page near the end. It's a dress she struggled with for a long time, mainly because in her head it’s red with black spots and she tries really hard to stay away from the Ladybug motif if she can. But in the end, she just couldn't bring herself to go with another color. It was red and black or nothing.

"Oh, uh, you do?"

"I'm a big fan of Ladybug." There's something soft about Adrien's face for a moment, before it's wiped away when he meets her eyes. "But I also really like how you did the empire waist here."

"I got that idea from an old fashion book I found at the library," Marinette says.

Adrien's eyes light up. "Was it written by Philippe Bellerose?"

"Oh my god, it was!" 

"That book was incredible."

"Right? I was so inspired by the chapter on wedding dresses!" 

"I must've re-read that chapter like five times," Adrien says enthusiastically. "Tell me, what did you think about his opinion on boot cut pants?"

Needless to say, the next hour and a half flies by. Marinette is barely aware of the time passing, and only realizes that it's getting late when she gets a text from her mother asking where she is. She answers the text by saying that she'll be home soon, but the truth is that she doesn't want to leave. Her parents will listen to her talk about her designs, and so will her classmates and Alya and Nino. But she's never had anyone who really _understands_. It's like the difference between talking to someone who only vaguely knows a language and someone who is fluent. Adrien speaks her language, and Marinette wishes she could freeze time.

"I have to go," she says reluctantly, tucking her phone into her pocket. 

"Oh, right. Of course," Adrien says. He sits back in his chair, smile fading until it becomes the same reserved expression he's worn all day.

"Could we... tomorrow?" Marinette says. "Coffee?"

"I can't tomorrow, but I could on Friday."

"Okay. Friday." She smiles shyly. "And... we could have lunch tomorrow? W-with Alya and Nino, of course," she hastily adds, because she doesn't want to seem creepy. 

"That would be great." Adrien grins again and picks up his sketchbook. "Gosh, I'm going to stay up all night incorporating those changes you suggested."

"Me too." Marinette hugs her sketchbook to her chest. Her mind is overflowing with new ideas. She almost wishes she didn't have to worry about patrolling with Chat tonight. Almost.

"I'll walk you out," Adrien says, standing. Marinette gets up too and they walk out together to find that it's still raining. He insists that she take the umbrella, even though she tries to give it back to him. Adrien just gives her a smile and tucks his sketchbook securely into his back, then dashes out into the rain before she can stop him. Marinette stands there and watches him run until she can no longer see the mop of blonde hair amongst the other people on the sidewalk.

She makes her way home, mind buzzing with everything she's learned today, and has a quiet meal with her parents. When dinner's over, she helps to wash up and then retreats upstairs to her room. Gradually the house quiets as her parents close down the bakery and then do all the prep for morning. Her mother pokes her head in at about nine to say good-night. Marinette is busy pretending to do her homework and waiting out the clock. At exactly ten, she opens the window above her bed and crawls out onto the balcony with a box in hand.

"Ready, Tikki?" she says. And, at a nod from her kwami, calls out, "Spots on!"

Ladybug tucks the box under one arm and leaps off the balcony, using her yoyo to propel herself towards the roof across the street. She's running about ten minutes late. As she gets closer to their meeting spot, she makes out the figure in black waiting for her. Chat Noir, the other half of Paris's legendary heroes, is sitting on the edge of their agreed-upon meeting place. The stiff way he's sitting makes alarm bells go off in Ladybug's mind, and she almost trips and faceplants in her haste to land and go running over to him.

"Whoa, hey, don't kill yourself," Chat says, tipping his head. His nose twitches and he zeroes in on the box in her hands.

"Are you okay? What did he do?" Ladybug asks, scanning him from head to toe. Their bodysuits cover them from the neck down, so all she really has to look at is Chat's face. And even then, his eyes and the bridge of his nose are covered by the mask. Like always, she doesn't see anything on his bare skin. But then, Chat's told her multiple times that his father is almost always careful not to bruise him anywhere that shows.

They were partners for approximately six months before Ladybug finally put the clues together. They didn't talk about their families for obvious reasons, but Chat had made a comment or two here and there that made it obvious that he and his father didn't have the best relationship. Ladybug hadn't paid much attention to that, but it was impossible to ignore the way Chat always seemed to be injured somehow. A sprained wrist, a limp, sitting stiffly because his ribs were sore - she knew none of it could've been because of akuma attacks thanks to her miraculous cure, and Chat had always been open about how he spent his time: besides homeschooling, his time was otherwise occupied with lessons, none of which were dangerous enough to account for his injuries.

It was none of her business, and Ladybug had known that. But that still hadn't stopped her from asking. She would never forget the look on Chat's face when she asked him if someone was hurting him: equal parts terror and relief. That look alone was answer enough, but Chat had confessed that it was his father. He'd never told her why, and she hadn’t pressed for details. Sometimes, she wishes she had. She wants to know how someone could hurt her beautiful, precious partner. She wants to know how Chat can put up with it. She wants to kill Chat's father.

But those aren't the kinds of details they can safely share, right?

"It's nothing," Chat says, drawing her attention back to him. "He punched me in the stomach, that's all."

Her stomach curls at how flippant he sounds, like this is all normal. It's not normal. Ladybug can't even fathom a world where her maman or papa would lift a hand to her. She takes a seat on the ledge beside him and silently puts the box of pastries in his lap. It's the only way she can help. It's not as though she can help with Chat's injuries, or give him a place to sleep at night. Not with the question of their identities hanging between them. 

Sometimes, Ladybug regrets obeying Master Fu and Tikki. Sometimes she just wants to tell Chat her name and beg him to move in with her. Sometimes that urge is getting stronger than she can handle.

"Oooh, cookies!" Chat squeals, opening up the box. He grabs a chocolate chip cookie and stuffs it in his mouth, grinning at her.

Ladybug laughs, because otherwise she'll cry, and reaches over to gently brush a crumb from his face. His eyes flutter shut and he leans into her touch. He's touch-starved. She figured that out about two months in. Sometimes she thinks she's the only person who ever touches him with kindness and affection. It's no wonder, really, that the Ladyblog thinks they're a couple, because she and Chat are always touching in some way. But she can't help herself. He just needs it so much. Needs her. And he probably doesn't know it, the clueless boy, but by now she'd give him the whole world if he asked.

"Leftovers," Ladybug tells him, letting her hand slide down and rest on his shoulder. "Maman didn't like this batch."

"Why not?"

"She said they came out poorly shaped." Ladybug squints down at the plain box. She's not sure what her mother was talking about, because they look fine to her, but she supposes it's the same way a crooked seam stands out to her even when Alya tells her it looks amazing.

"Their loss," Chat says, grabbing another cookie. Sometimes she wonders if he gets fed enough, but she's not brave enough to ask. She settles for a smile and scoots closer to lay her head on his shoulder. He melts into her, contentedly leaning his head on top of hers while he makes his way through half the box. 

"Does your stomach hurt?" she asks after he's set the box aside. 

"A little, but it's better now that you're here, My Lady."

"Flirt," she says half-heartedly.

"Only with you," he says, nuzzling the top of her hair, and she doesn’t know whether that’s the truth or not and she’s too afraid to ask. 

"Would you tell me why?" she asks suddenly. The words are out before she can second-guess them. Tikki's going to have a heart attack, but suddenly the desire to know is overwhelming her common sense and she’s desperate to _know_ if only he’ll tell her.

"My mother disappeared about a year before we got our miraculouses. She just walked out the door one day and didn't come back. My father was furious. He's never liked me all that much; he wanted me to be a model, but I don't have the right attitude for it. All the photographers say that I'm just a pretty face. And I look like her. A lot like her. Sometimes I wonder if maybe he used to hit her too, and that's why she left. I took her place."

Ladybug's heart sinks further with every matter-of-fact word Chat says. Her head spins and for a second she feels faint, trying to absorb it all. She latches onto the first bit of information gave and repeats, "Your mother disappeared?"

"Yeah." Chat sighs like a popped balloon, all the tension seeping out of him. "She went out in the morning and didn't come back that night. The police got called, but they couldn't tell us anything. I've often wondered why she left... what happened that she couldn't tell me about." He shifts, the pressure of his head rising from her head, and Ladybug peers up at him. He's staring out at the city with an expression she's never seen before, like he's looking at something that no one else can see. He looks like a stranger, and that's frightening in ways she can't put words to.

"And your father?" Ladybug prods in a whisper.

Chat blinks and suddenly he's back to normal, her familiar partner. "I don't know. I wish I could tell you why for sure, My Lady. I wish I knew." He sighs again, cupping his hand over his stomach. "He's never given me a reason, and I never wanted to stick around long enough to ask."

Her throat tightens and she blinks rapidly, trying not to cry. "He wanted you to be a model, you said?"

"Yeah. Can you imagine? Me as a model?" Chat snorts. "Not in this lifetime. I didn't like it on that side of things. Too much attention. I suppose he's lucky that I never took to it. People would notice if they took my shirt off and saw the bruises."

"I could see it. You're handsome," Ladybug says absently. 

"Really?" Chat looks surprised by her comment. Pink colors his cheeks along the edge of the mask and he clears his throat awkwardly. 

"Yes," Ladybug says, blushing too, because there's no point in denying it. 

He smiles and takes her hand, lifting it to brush a kiss against it. "It's really not that big of a deal, LB. I don't want you to worry about me. It doesn't happen very often. I was late getting home today. That's what set him off."

"It's not right, Chat. I can't help but worry. What if one day he goes too far and -"

"Whoa, hey, that won't happen. I'm Chat Noir, remember? My kwami is always with me. I could transform and kick his ass before that happened."

But would you? Ladybug doesn't ask because she's afraid she knows the answer. Chat may not _like_ his father, but it's evident that he _loves_ his father. He's always talking about being proficient in his lessons, and hoping that his high grades will be impressive. It's like he wants to impress his father enough to stop the beatings - and maybe, she recognizes now, to somehow apologize for ressembling his mother or not being a model. Ladybug's not sure that's possible. And even if it is, she doesn't think that Chat's father deserves that opportunity. Not after what he's put Chat through. 

"I worry anyway," she says instead, "because you're my partner and I care about you. It's not something I can turn off, _Chaton_."

Chat looks pleased. "I knew I'd make my way into your heart eventually."

Eventually? Ladybug snorts at the thought. She's pretty sure she's loved Chat since he put his hands on her shoulders and told her not to give up because the city of Paris needed them, and that was all the way back at the beginning. Ladybug was fully prepared to give up her miraculous before Chat convinced her not to. Every time she has a moment of self doubt, all she has to do is spend a few minutes with him to remember that she's not alone. She can do this with Chat at her side. He's the only reason that she's made it this far.

"What can I say? I guess I'm a sucker for silly kitties," she says, tapping him on the nose with her free hand. She can tell he wants to change the subject, and she's willing to let him. For now, anyway. She needs some time to think about what he's told her tonight, and figure out how it fits in with everything else she's learned about him during the time of their partnership.

"Silly? You think I'm silly? You wound me, Bugaboo," he says, putting a dramatic hand to his heart.

"You don't agree? Well, maybe I should mention that I only feed silly kitties."

"I'm as silly as they come," he says, perfectly serious with wide open eyes, and Ladybug lasts about ten seconds before she bursts out laughter. Chat drops the look and laughs along with her.


	2. Chapter 2

Ladybug really doesn't want to go home, but the night air is cool and eventually Chat catches her shivering. He tells her to go home, and, since it's after midnight on a school night, Ladybug can't exactly argue. But she hates to leave. No, scratch that. She hates to see Chat leave. She lingers at the edge of the rooftop, half-turned to watch him extend his baton down to the street and then vault into the night air. The sheer gracefulness with which he moves never fails to leave her breathless, and the only thought that accompanies her on her way home is to wonder how anyone could hurt someone so kind.

She lands on her balcony and crawls inside, landing on her bed with a thump and a flash of red light. Tikki lands on the bed beside her, but Marinette doesn't spare her kwami any attention. She stares at the night sky through her window, thinking about Chat. She's never known anyone whose parents hurt them before. She always thought those people would be easy to pick out in a crowd. 

But Chat doesn't walk around with hunched shoulders. He doesn't flinch away from her touch. He hardly ever says bad things about his father. He smiles and laughs and makes jokes, and he throws himself recklessly into battle, and he always knows what to say when she's feeling down, and his arms are the safest place in the world.

"That was dangerous, Marinette," Tikki chides lightly, appearing over Marinette's face. 

"I don't care," Marinette says, focusing on her kwami. "It's going to happen, Tikki. You had to know that from day one. Either he would tell me or I would tell him, or we'd slip up in some way. We’re just kids." And I want to know, Marinette doesn’t say.

Tikki sighs. "It usually does. But with Hawkmoth around, you should be striving to keep your identities a secret as long as you can. Asking questions about Chat's personal life is not the way to do that."

"I can't help Chat if I don't know who he is."

"Maybe he doesn't want your help," says Tikki.

That thought is too unbearable to contemplate. Marinette shakes her head. "No. Chat deserves more than that. He should be able to go home to a place where he knows he's loved and where he doesn't have to worry about being punched or kicked." Her breath catches. The tears that she held back during her time with Chat begin to roll down her cheeks. They're hot and itchy.

"Marinette." Tikki looks at her with such understanding and compassion that it aches. "I know you love Chat, but sometimes Ladybug can't fix everything. No matter how much you want to."

"But I have to. I have to let him know that he has at least one person he can depend on," Marinette says. It sounds dangerously close to a plea. 

"You're upset. I think we should continue this conversation later, after you've had some sleep," Tikki says, patting Marinette's forehead. 

"Yeah, okay," Marinette concedes, but she knows that sleep won't change anything. Chat might say that he's okay, but Marinette knows him well enough to know that Chat might not tell her if he wasn't. Because he always wants to protect her, and never stops to think that _she_ might want to protect _him_. That's a silly kitty for you.

She doesn’t sleep well that night, and wakes up late for school the next morning. She ends up rushing around to get ready and it leaves her feeling cranky by the time she finally stumbles into school. Seeing Alya’s smiling face helps a little. So does the shy little wave Adrien gives her when she walks in. Marinette smiles back at him and takes her seat, looking forward to lunch already.

“What was that?” Alya hisses at her. “Adrien waved at you. I thought you hated him.”

“We talked,” Marinette says. Their time in the café almost seems like a dream now, but she has the sketches that prove otherwise.

“Talked?” Alya echoes. “When and where was this?”

“After school yesterday. He gave me his umbrella and we had coffee. That’s all.”

Alya’s eyebrows are climbing. “That’s all? Oh no. I want all the details.”

Madame Bustier walks in, saving Marinette from the third degree. She gratefully pulls out her mathematics book and buries her head in it. Math seems slightly more interesting now that she’s seen it from Adrien’s point of view, but ultimately numbers and formulas just aren’t how Marinette wants to spend her morning. The day seems to drag by, until finally the bell for lunch goes off. 

“So, lunch?” Nino asks, turning around to look at them.

“Sure,” Alya says slowly, casting Marinette a suspicious look. Marinette paints on a picture of innocence and grabs her schoolbag.

They find a table in the cafeteria. Marinette ends up next to Adrien. She doesn’t look at him, instead preoccupying herself with taking her food out of her bag. It was so easy to talk to him yesterday, but now that she doesn’t have the comfort of fashion and design as a conversation starter, she’s not sure what to say. Her tongue feels too heavy and every comment that crosses through her brain sounds too stupid.

Alya apparently has no such issues. She plunks her bag down and says, “So, what happened to your wrist?”

Adrien blinks at the question, looking down at his arm. His right wrist is loosely bandaged. “Oh, uh, I fence. I was practicing with someone and they tried out a move I wasn’t expecting. I went right when I should’ve went left and –” He makes an awkward gesture, wincing. 

“That sounds painful,” Nino says.

“I’ve had worse,” Adrien says with a thin smile. “I’m so used to it now, it barely registers.” To prove it, he deftly picks up a fork with his right hand and uses it to eat a mouthful of salad.

“I wouldn’t have expected you to be someone who liked fencing,” says Alya.

“I wouldn’t say that I like it. My father wanted me to do it, so I do,” Adrien replies. 

“Then what do you like?” Alya asks, propping her chin on her hands.

“Ladybug,” Adrien says without missing a beat. Marinette chokes on her sip of tea. Alya’s eyes light up.

“Oh my god, you’re a Ladybug fan?!” she exclaims over Nino’s groan. “I run the Ladyblog!”

“I know.” Adrien smiles for real this time. “I must check your blog twenty times a day. I was really excited when I found out I was going to be in your class.”

Alya preens. “Do you want to see my latest footage?”

“Of course!”

“Not,” Marinette says under her breath, sharing an exasperated look with Nino. Still, they both obediently turn their attention to Alya’s phone. Marinette pretends to be deeply interested in the unedited footage of Ladybug and Chat Noir dealing with Saturday night’s akuma. It was a messy one, and both she and Chat got thrown around _a lot_. Thank god for the miraculous cure, or they would both be laid up in a hospital room right now.

"Just how close to this battle were you?" Nino asks, narrowing his eyes at the screen.

"Not very," Alya says, which is such an obvious lie that Marinette can't help rolling her eyes. Sometimes she doesn't remember a lot of akuma battles after they're over, but, from this one, she has a vivid memory of being thrown head-over-heels into a wall and glimpsing Alya's huge eyes and pale face on the way by. 

"You're going to get yourself killed one of these days," Nino mutters.

"Ladybug wouldn't let that happen," Alya says confidently.

"Ladybug can't be everywhere at once," Nino snaps, which is exactly what Marinette was going to say. "Sure she's got her miraculous cure, but that doesn't change the fact that you could _die_ , Alya. She and Chat Noir do their best to protect civilians, but they're only human behind the mask. They make mistakes. They fail. Have you ever stopped to think about how much harder their job is with you in the middle of every battle?"

Alya's jaw tightens. "I'm always careful, Nino. I don't appreciate you talking to me like I'm a two year old."

"Guys," Marinette interrupts before Nino can respond. "Can we please just eat lunch?" She eyes them both. This is an old argument, one that Marinette has heard multiple times over. Alya insists on getting close to akuma battles for footage, and doesn't understand why Nino worries so much about it. Nino is in love with Alya, but he won't admit it. So all they do is squabble at each other like an old married couple and frankly, Marinette is tired of being in the middle of it. Plus, Adrien is looking distinctly uncomfortable and she suspects he highly regrets mentioning Ladybug at all.

"Fine," Nino mutters, shoving his sandwich into his mouth. Alya scowls and retreats behind her phone; Marinette suspects she's making a post to the Ladyblog just because she can.

There's an awkward silence for a few moments. Marinette wracks her brain for something else to talk about and finally turns to Adrien. "I spent a lot of time last night revising the design of that dress you liked. I took your suggestion and made it a full skirt instead of a pencil skirt and I love it."

"Oh, you did? I'm so glad," Adrien says. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that."

"About the dress?"

"Well, kind of. I had an ulterior motive for approaching you yesterday," he admits, and now Nino and Alya are definitely listening in. "I found out a few weeks ago about this big contest that Petit Fashions is putting on. It's for evening wear, and the reward is two fully funded scholarships to any institute of fashion in Paris of your choice. I was going to enter, but the thing is that it's a collaborative contest. You need a partner, and I don't have anyone to partner with. I thought that maybe you might want to." He looks at her hopefully.

"Wait," Alya says before Marinette can ever start to formulate an answer. "You're Adrien _Agreste_. Your dad is literally one of the most popular fashion designers in the world. How can you not have anyone to partner with?"

Adrien sighs. "My father doesn't like the fact that I design. He wanted me to be a model," he explains curtly. "He's always tried to stop me from having anything to do with the fashion and design part of things and that includes keeping me away from any aspiring designers because he didn't want me getting any ideas. Marinette is the first person I've really met who designs like I do. I couldn't believe it when Nino told me yesterday."

"I would've thought your dad would love that you want to design. Someone to hand the family business over to," says Alya.

"He's never told me why, and I've never asked," Adrien says, shrugging. "I just know he would be mad if he found out that I was trying to enter this contest. And he's put the fear of god into pretty much anyone I could approach and made it clear he'll blacklist their names in the industry if they collaborate with me or even just talk to me." He bites his lip, turning guilty eyes onto Marinette. "I really shouldn't even ask you if you'll partner with me, but I want to enter the contest so badly. I really want to prove that this is something I can do, and that I'm not just trying to ride on his coattails."

"Okay," Marinette's mouth says for her. It's just too hard to say no when Adrien's eyes are looking at her so hopefully.

"Really?" Nino and Alya say together, but Marinette can ignore them just because Adrien's whole face is lighting up.

"You will? Oh my gosh, that's great! I have a bunch of ideas already. I've been doing preliminary sketches for a while now."

Marinette smiles helplessly at his excitement. She can feel Alya and Nino staring at her, and she knows why. It's always been a dream of hers to go work for Gabriel Agreste; she's admired his flair with fashion since she was just a kid. From the sounds of it, collaborating with Adrien is probably _not_ a way to make that happen. Not if Gabriel is as dead-set against it as Adrien says he is. She could very well be kissing her dreams of fashion good-bye, and all for a boy with pretty green eyes and one of the happiest smiles she's ever seen.

But at the same time, something in Marinette bristles at the idea that any parent would keep their child from following a dream without even a reasonable explanation. She remembers how her own parents reacted when she admitted that she wasn't sure she wanted to take over the bakery because of her love for design. Her father admitted that he was a little disappointed, but at the same time he understood that she was her own person and that she had her own dreams. The only thing her parents ever asked of her was that she devote some time to learn their craft, just in case she ever changed her mind.

It doesn't seem fair that Adrien's father doesn't seem willing to give him the same chance. Hell, Adrien should have all the doors in the world open to him. People would jump at the chance to hire Adrien if they knew that he was Gabriel Agreste's son. And maybe Adrien is the kind of person who wants to make it on his own merit, Marinette doesn't know. But he should still have the choice. 

"I have some sketches done up too," Marinette says, carefully avoiding the eyes of her friends. "I heard about that contest the day it came out. I was actually trying to figure out a way to invent a partner so that I could join."

"Now you don't have to," Adrien says eagerly. "Are we still on for Friday?"

"Absolutely. Why don't you come to my house?" Marinette suggests.

"That sounds great."

"I'd ask if I could come too, but clearly I'm not invited," Nino says, pulling a mock-hurt face.

Adrien flushes pink. "Oh, uh, sorry, did you - you could -"

Nino laughs a little and claps Adrien on the back. Adrien winces a little as Nino says, "Dude, I was joking. I would never dream of being around when Marinette gets heavy into her design phase. I bet that you're no better."

"I wouldn't know," Adrien says after a thoughtful pause. 

Alya leans over to Marinette. "Um, what was that?" she hisses.

"What was what?" Marinette whispers back.

"You agreeing to something that could potentially wreck your chance to work with Gabriel Agreste? For a boy?" Alya's grin stretches from ear to ear. "My little Mari, do you have a crush on Adrien?"

Marinette can feel herself blushing. "I've only known him for two days," she snaps back. 

"You can have a crush after a five minute conversation," Alya says wisely. "And besides, it might just be mutual."

"What?" Marinette glances at the boys, but their conversation has moved on to Nino's music. 

"Marinette, he took you on a date yesterday and then asked you to be his partner for a really important contest today."

"He literally said I'm the only other person he knows who designs," Marinette points out.

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean he couldn't have asked someone like Chloé and then did all the work himself," Alya says. "He's looking for a true partnership and he asked you. This is so exciting! Now you can move on from that online boyfriend of yours."

"He's not my boyfriend," Marinette says automatically, rolling her eyes. She truly regrets the day that she was drawing in class and made a heart with Chat's initials inside it. Unbeknowst to Marinette, Alya was watching and immediately wanted to know who C.N. was. Somehow, through Marinette's ensuing stutters, Alya got the idea that Marinette met someone online and was sort of dating them. She's managed to fend Alya off when it comes to more details, but it's not easy.

Alya rolls her eyes too. "Uh-huh, sure. My point is, here's a real guy who you share an interest with and who is really cute. If you guys win this contest, you could get a scholarship to the same school. This could be so romantic." She clutches at Marinette's arm, stars in her eyes. "I can see it now. You two on the catwalk. The judges are sitting in front of you. It's you two against the other groups. Adrien grabs your hand. You lean against him. Everyone is filled with anticipation. Heidi Klum stands up and announces that you two are the winners. You start crying. Adrien goes down on one knee and dramatically professes his love -"

"Oh my god," Marinette says, laughing. "First of all, it's not Project Runway. Second of all, no boy is ever going to get down on one knee to profess his love to me!" She might say that a little too loud, because both Nino and Adrien look at her. She blushes bright red.

"Who is professing love to Marinette now?" Nino wants to know.

"No one!" Marinette says loudly, clapping a hand over Alya's mouth. She can feel Alya's smirk against the palm of her hand and it makes her nervous. When Alya gets an idea in her head, it's really hard to make her think about anything else. 

Nino narrows his eyes at her. "I'm not sure I believe that."

"Well it's the truth, so believe it." Marinette quickly gets up, grabs her tray and speed-walks over to the nearest garbage can. Her face feels like it's on fire and she hopes to hell that Adrien didn't hear any of Alya's wild fantasies. The last thing she needs is for things to get weird between them; collaborating on a design project means she and Adrien will be spending a lot of time together in the near future.


	3. Chapter 3

Marinette heads back to class after emptying her tray and finds the classroom blissfully empty, though it doesn’t stay that way for long. Adrien comes in a couple minutes later, thankfully without Alya or Nino. Marinette would hope that the two of them found a quiet closet to make out in if she didn’t know her friends were utterly oblivious about their feelings for each other.

“Are you okay?” Adrien asks, taking his seat but twisting around to remain facing her. “You left really fast. Was it something I said?”

“No, it’s fine,” Marinette says.

Adrien looks uncertain. “I hope you know that I really do want to be friends with you. I mean, part of the reason I approached you was because of your design talent, but I’ve also heard you’re a really nice person and –”

“Adrien.” Marinette holds up a hand to stop him. “I believe you. I don’t mind. We can be friends, and we can be partners in design.” Just not anything more than that, no matter how much Alya wants to believe otherwise. She and Chat haven’t had a conversation about feelings, but Marinette can’t let go of the hope that there’s something more to Chat’s flirting. 

“Oh, good. Then would you mind if I got your phone number so we can text?”

“Sure.” She quickly scribbles her number on a spare scrap of paper and hands it over. Adrien programs it into his phone then and there, and a moment later Marinette gets a text from an unknown number. She saves the details into her phone. 

“Adrikins!” Chloé shrills suddenly. Adrien visibly grimaces before pasting on a smile that Marinette fully suspects is fake as Chloé waltzes into the room.

“Hi Chloé,” he says politely.

“I was looking everywhere for you! I wanted to have lunch with you today. What are you doing in here?” Chloé sits down on the bench and slides over so that she can press herself against Adrien. Marinette bites her lip to keep from laughing when Adrien scoots over so that he’s almost falling off the bench in an effort to keep distance between them. 

Though she’s not really sure _why_ Adrien is doing that. Didn’t he tell her yesterday that he only has one friend, and that this friend means everything to him? Marinette assumed he was talking about Chloé. Based on the way Adrien is not even trying to be subtle about leaning away from Chloé, she’s starting to re-think that assumption. She wonders who Adrien’s other friend is, if not Chloé.

“I was talking to Marinette, Chloé,” Adrien says.

Chloé’s face does something complicated, in which she’s trying to glare at Marinette and smile at Adrien at the same time. “Why would you waste time doing that when you could be with me?” she asks, wrapping both hands around Adrien’s arm.

“Because Marinette is my friend.”

“That’s right, Chloé,” Marinette says, unable to help herself. “And Adrien and I were having a _private_ conversation before you butted in.”

The ferocious scowl on Chloé’s face could burn through stone. “Keep your paws off my boyfriend, Dupain-Cheng,” she hisses. 

“Chloé!” Adrien squeaks, pulling away to the point where he actually does fall of the bench. He doesn’t land on the ground, though; he catches himself at the last second, twisting and rising at the same time. It’s an oddly graceful move that seems familiar. Marinette blinks at him, puzzled.

“Whaaaaaaaat?” Chloé whines, drawing Marinette’s attention back to her.

“I’m not your boyfriend,” Adrien says, sounding like it’s something he’s said dozens of times before. Possibly hundreds. He seems uncomfortable, not that Marinette can blame him considering how close Chloé was. He stands there for a moment longer, mouth opening and closing like he wants to add something else, before he finally shakes his head and hurries out of the room. 

“Wow, good job. You chased him away,” Marinette says.

Chloé glares at her again. “Regardless of what he says, you stay away from him,” she orders imperiously.

“He doesn’t belong to you, Chloé. He’s not a watch or a purse,” Marinette says. “Adrien is allowed to make friends with anyone he wants, and I’m not going to stop being friends with him just because you told me to.” It’ll be a cold day in hell before Marinette does _anything_ just because Chloé Bourgois told her to. 

“Oh, I don’t care if he makes friends,” Chloé says, in a tone that strongly suggests she actually does care, “but I just want to make it perfectly clear that Adrien is taken. He and I are going to grow up and get married.”

“That’s not what Adrien just said.”

“Adrien doesn’t understand yet, but it’s what’s going to happen,” Chloé says flatly. “It makes sense. I’ve been waiting my whole life for the moment when he falls in love with me. I’ll be mayor of Paris and he’ll take over his father’s company. Together we’ll be an unstoppable duo.” She clenches a fist, looking off into the distance, before suddenly her eyes re-focus on Marinette. “And that means I can’t have people like you interfering with that.”

Marinette stares at her. “Wow. Congratulations. Before I thought you were just a bitch. Now I genuinely think you’re crazy.”

Chloé flashes a cold smile. “You have no idea how crazy I am, Dupain-Cheng. Consider this your warning.” She gets up, smoothes out her blouse, and clicks her way out of the room. Marinette watches her go in stunned silence.

As the door swings shut, Marinette can’t help muttering out loud: “Suddenly, I feel kind of sorry for Adrien.”

“Me too,” Tikki says, poking her head out of Marinette’s purse. “Yikes, that girl has some issues.”

“Do you think it’s worth being friends with Adrien anyway?” Marinette wonders, looking down at her kwami. “I’m not asking because Chloé told me off. But she’s such a pain in my ass to start with, and it’s only going to get worse if I get closer with Adrien. She’s gonna hit the roof when she finds out I agreed to be Adrien’s partner in that design contest. I have enough problems in my life as it is…”

Tikki flies out of the purse and up to hover around Marinette’s face. “You’ve dealt with Chloé before, Marinette, and you’ve never let her stop you.”

“That’s true,” Marinette says thoughtfully.

“I guess you have to decide if Adrien is worth it,” Tikki says. “You don’t know him very well yet, but you seem like you like him.”

Marinette shoots her a flat look. “Not like that.”

Tikki giggles. “I didn’t mean it like that,” she says playfully. “I just meant, you like him as a friend and as another designer you can collaborate with. I remember you saying how much you wanted to have someone to design with when you heard about that contest. It’s kind of like fate that Adrien has joined our class here and now. Do you want to give up on that so easily?”

“Not really,” Marinette admits. “Adrien seems like he could be a good friend. And… I think _he_ needs a good friend. Especially if his only experience with friends has been people like Chloé. Well, Chloé and whoever his other friend that he talked about is.”

“Yes, I wonder who that could be,” Tikki says, a twinkle in her eyes.

“Do you know who it is?” Marinette asks, narrowing her eyes.

“How would I know that? I’ve never met Adrien before. I think Chloé has you more rattled than you realize.” Tikki moves closer, leaning in to cuddle against Marinette’s cheek. “Think about it this way. Adrien seems like a nice guy so far, but if you leave him in Chloé’s hands with no other influences, he could turn into a male version of her.”

Marinette shudders. “Are you trying to give me a nightmare? That’s the last thing we –”

The floor quivers beneath her feet and she shuts up, hands shooting out to brace herself against her desk. She breathes shallowly as the tremors stop, eyes darting around the room. Tikki shoots over to the windows and peers out. Marinette stands more slowly, nearly falling when the building shakes again. She catches herself against Adrien’s desk and looks up at Tikki.

“Ladybug?” she asks.

“Ladybug,” Tikki confirms.

“Right. Tikki, spots on!”

With a flash of red light, Ladybug makes her way over to the windows just in time to see an akuma attacking the school. It looks like an astronaut, if astronauts were capable of being ten feet high and shooting rockets out of their hands. The building trembles from the impact and it doesn’t take a genius to realize that if the akuma keeps shooting, the building is going to collapse pretty fast.

“I will hang her from the Eiffel Tower if this is Chloé’s doing,” she says under her breath, pushing the window open. She hops up onto the ledge and then squeaks as another rocket hits the building at the same time, making her already perilous perch even more iffy when the ledge shakes beneath her. She loses her balance and literally falls out the window, fingers scrabbling for a hold that she doesn’t find.

“Careful, My Lady!” A familiar arm winds around her waist and stops her fall abruptly. Ladybug gasps as all the air is driven out of her lungs by the forearm pressed into her ribs. The ground starts falling away from her as Chat uses his baton to propel them both into the air and out of reach of the akuma.

She grits her teeth, forces air into her lungs, and exhales. “Thanks, Kitty.”

“Anytime,” Chat says, his hold slightly gentler now that she’s no longer in danger of becoming a Ladybug-shaped pancake on the pavement. He’s got her tucked under his left arm, her legs and arms dangling freely. His other hand grips his baton; she sees him wince as he lets go and clambers atop, swinging her up into his lap. She’s reaching for his hand before they’re settled, gently feeling over his wrist. After so long, her fingers easily recognize the swollen flesh beneath his suit.

“Chat,” she says, distressed.

“Just a sprained wrist,” he says, nuzzling her hair quickly. “It’s really nothing. We should be focusing on the akuma.”

“Right,” Ladybug mutters, not letting go of his hand. She peers over and down the five dozen feet to where the akuma is rampaging around below them, clearly enraged that they’re out of reach. Why it hasn’t grabbed Chat’s baton yet, she’s not sure, but she’s grateful for the reprieve. 

“From what I heard, it seems that he’s a student here. Someone made fun of his dream job,” Chat says in her ear. 

Ladybug sighs. “Of course they did. Okay.” She takes hold of her yoyo with her free hand. “We should try to get it away from the school if we can. I’m worried about the building’s foundations. It was shaking pretty bad when I was inside. I almost fell out of my desk.”

“Your desk?” Chat repeats.

“Er… that is…” Ladybug fumbles, realizing her mistake. “Let’s go! Can’t leave an akuma waiting!” She throws out her yoyo, letting it wind around the chimney across the street, and leaps off of Chat’s lap. There’s a few seconds of freefall before she feels the jolt of the string catching her, turning it into a controlled fall. She swings down and lands between the akuma and the school.

“Ladybug!” the akuma crows, throwing its arms wide. “I am L’Astro! I will send everyone to the stars!” It points to her. “But first, I want your miraculous!”

“Sorry, I’m afraid it’s not for sale,” Ladybug says sweetly, bracing herself. She begins to slowly swing her yoyo in anticipation.

“That’s fine, because I’m going to take it.” L’Astro lets out a mad cackle, throwing its arms wide. Ten rockets emerge from its fingertips and, with a loud crack, fire. Ladybug lurches backwards, bringing her yoyo forward to protect herself, but the rockets don’t come towards her.

She suddenly understands why she didn’t hear any screaming before. The rockets converge on the students still left in the courtyard. Ladybug watches in horror as each of the rockets grabs a student and whisks them away into the sky. The students barely have the chance to let out a startled shriek before they’re so high she can barely make them out, never mind hear them.

“Mon dieu,” Chat breathes out, dropping down beside her. “We have to end this quickly, Ladybug. If those rockets go too high, they’ll pass out.”

Her stomach sinks as her mind’s eye is flooded with an image of dozens of Collège Françoise Dupont students dying miles above Paris. Ladybug clenches her left hand into a fist to hide the fact that it’s shaking and draws herself up, forcing herself to draw on a source of calm. She can’t freak out. Not here. Not now. She and Chat can do this, but only if they keep their wits about them.

“Let’s go, _Chaton_ ,” she whispers, letting the fear power her anger. That gives her strength, and she lashes out with her yoyo.

L’Astro laughs mockingly and leaps backwards, easily clearing several feet off the ground. “Let’s send all of Paris to the stars!” It turns and begins to run up the street.

Without a word, Ladybug and Chat take off after it. It’s slow, seemingly able to jump higher than run fast, and that means they catch up fairly easy. Chat leaps down in front of it with his claws bared, only to barely dodge another rocket. L’Astro holds its hands out in front of it and starts blasting rockets at them. Ladybug darts in front of her partner and starts rapidly swinging her yoyo, deflecting the rockets. 

They find other targets. She feels sick as she watches screaming Parisians be swept away. Chat grabs her around the waist, ducking and rolling as more rockets come. He darts into an alley while L’Astro laughs. Ladybug lets her yoyo fall into her hand. She usually doesn’t use her Lucky Charm until she has a better feel for the situation, but Chat is right. They need to finish this quickly, and that means they’re going to need some insight.

With that thought in mind, Ladybug throws her yoyo into the air. “Lucky Charm!”

She blinks as a set of heavy winter mitts falls into her hands. For once, her charm is pretty self-explanatory. The only question is how they’ll be able to do this. She look around quickly, eyes scanning the empty street, and smiles for the first time since L’Astro began attacking their school. Chat sees her smile and smiles too, his green eyes lighting up.

“What’s the plan, Bugaboo?” he asks.

“We need to trap him. Use your Cataclysm on the road,” Ladybug tells him. “Then get this on his left hand. I’ve got the right.”

“Do you know what the object is?” Chat asks, taking one of the red, black-spotted mitts.

Ladybug hesitates, because she doesn’t. She sidles to the edge of the alley and pokes her head around. Chat comes up behind her, pressing against her, so that he can look too. She tries to ignore the warmth of his body and stares hard at the akuma, looking for anything that might be out of place. The smooth white astronaut suit doesn’t leave much to the imagination. She finds it unlikely that Hawkmoth would’ve chosen a whole suit for an akuma, since it could be damaged in a fight.

“There,” Chat says, his right hand landing gently on her shoulder. “It’s the helmet.”

“Okay,” Ladybug says. She trusts him. “Ready?”

“Born ready.” He gives her a grin and pulls away, dancing out into the street and skillfully avoiding the rockets. Ladybug watches, heart in her throat. 

And then, suddenly, he’s close enough that he calls for his Cataclysm and slams a hand against the street. L’Astro shrieks as it falls. Ladybug lunges out of the alley and sprints forward; she gets the mitt on L’Astro’s right hand. With Chat taking care of the writhing akuma’s left hand, it leaves L’Astro with no protection when Ladybug reaches out and plucks the helmet right off of L’Astro’s head. She drops it on the ground and gladly drives her foot through the glass visor, shattering it. A purple butterfly flutters out.

“No more evil-doing for you,” Ladybug says. “I free you from evil!” She reels her yoyo in and taps the top, releasing the pure white butterfly. “Bye bye, little butterfly. Miraculous Ladybug!”

She grabs a mitt from L’Astro and throws it into the sky. Red ladybugs appear in a stream of miraculous light, fixing the damage and returning people to where they were before the akuma attack happened. Ladybug breathes a sigh of relief at seeing that everyone looks unharmed. No matter how many times her cure saves people, she lives in fear of the day that it doesn’t work.

“Good job as always, My Lady,” Chat says, offering her a fist. His left fist. Ladybug bites her lip, but very gently taps his fist with hers.

“Pound it!” they say together, but barely have they spoken before Ladybug uncurls her fist and grabs his hand.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” she says, searching his eyes.

Chat smiles kindly. “Are you _kitten_ -ing me? I just found out that my partner attends the same school that I do. I’m over the moon. In fact, you might say I’m _bugging_ out.”

Ladybug sighs and lets go. “Yeah, you’re fine. Wait -!” It suddenly sinks in, what he said about Collège Françoise Dupont, and she looks up at him with wide eyes. His smile turns into a mischievous grin and he salutes her, then grabs his baton and uses it to vault himself up onto the nearest roof.

“Oooh, that cat,” Ladybug mutters. That was no mistake on his part, she knows. And she can’t unhear it, either. Already her brain is sorting through the kids at her school, trying to figure out who has blond hair and green eyes and is roughly Chat’s height and weight. She knows they’re both sixteen, so that limits the field considerably – 

No! Ladybug shakes her head at herself and finally notices the crowd gathering around her. She offers a quick smile, suddenly mindful of the beeping at her ears, and uses her yoyo to escape. She glances over at the roof where Chat landed, but of course he’s long gone. He wouldn’t stick around to be scolded, and that’s exactly what she would do. Because that’s what Tikki would want her to do. That’s what she _should_ do. She wouldn’t give into the temptation to press Chat for details until he tells her who he is. Of course not.

It doesn’t even sound convincing to her own ears. She’s so screwed.


	4. Chapter 4

Lunch is long over, and now that the akuma’s been dealt with classes will be resuming. Marinette makes her way back to the school and drops down into an alley to detransform. As she fishes a cookie out of her purse for Tikki to eat, she wonders about Chat. They’ve never talked about school before. She assumed he went, of course, but not to _her_ school. She’s not sure how to feel about the fact that she may know Chat as civilian already.

How can she love someone so much, but walk past them and not recognize them? How can she not notice that someone at her school is being hurt at home? Marinette folds her arms across her chest, looking at the bit of Collège Françoise Dupont that she can see from where she’s standing, and doesn’t even notice Tikki trying to get her attention until the kwami flies right in front of her face.

“Marinette!” Tikki cries, clearly exasperated. “Stop daydreaming about Chat and get moving. You’re late!”

“Oh shoot!” Marinette squeaks. “Hide, Tikki!” She barely waits for Tikki to dive into her purse before she bursts out of the alley and rushes across the street.

As predicted, classes have already resumed, but Marinette’s noticed, and taken complete advantage of, the fact that most teachers look the other way for students late coming back after akuma attacks. Sure enough, Madame Bustier barely pauses in her reading when Marinette slips into the room. Marinette takes a quick inventory as she scuttles to her seat and notices that she’s not the last person back: Adrien, Alya and Juleka are all missing.

Adrien and Juleka never return, but Alya comes in about a minute later with a big smile and new footage for the Ladyblog. When Madame Bustier turns her back, Marinette leans over to see. She feels herself blushing as she watches Chat save Ladybug from falling out the window. Not because of her clumsiness, though that’s a little more embarrassing when she’s Ladybug than when she’s Marinette, but because of the casual way Chat lifts her into his lap at the top of his baton. She perches on his thigh like she belongs there, grabbing at his hand with both of hers and letting him nuzzle at her hair.

It means she’s subjected to a full two hours of Alya’s increasingly wild theories about ‘Ladynoir’, and, when the bell finally rings, Marinette is so grateful she could cry. She’s not even disappointed that Alya has to go home and baby-sit her little sisters, because Marinette gets to go home too and help her parents out in the bakery for a couple of hours before going upstairs to work on her homework.

With no patrol scheduled until Saturday, the next couple of days pass in relative peace. The next thing Marinette knows, it’s Friday afternoon and it’s almost time to leave. She’s relieved, and not just because it’s the weekend. Alya keeps sending her big, meaningful smiles and drawing hearts with A.A. + M.D.C in them. No matter how many times Marinette glares back, the message doesn’t seem to be sinking in.

As soon as the bell rings, Adrien whips around. “Ready, Marinette?” he asks.

“Love confession on a catwalk,” Alya whisper-hisses.

Marinette gets up and ‘accidentally’ hits Alya with her bookbag as she slings it on her back. “Yup, I sure am,” she says, ignoring Alya’s cackling. “Come on. You’ll love my parent’s bakery.”

“I love sweets,” Adrien confesses, like it’s some dirty secret; he says a quick good-bye to Nino and follows her out of the classroom.

“Then you’re making friends with the right girl,” Marinette says. “My parents can’t resist feeding up my friends.” Especially her friends who, now that she looks critically at Adrien, are as skinny as he is. For a boy who insists he can’t model, Adrien sure has a model-like build. She’s going to have to start bringing pastries to him in the morning, because he’s clearly not eating enough.

They walk across the street and down the block until they reach the bakery. Marinette pushes the door open and finds that the bakery is fairly busy, which is not uncommon for this time of day when kids are just getting out of school. It’ll only get worse as people leave work, culminating in a real rush around suppertime, before petering out until closing time.

She waves at her maman, who is manning the counter, and ushers Adrien through the crowd, behind the counter and up the stairs into their apartment. It’s quiet, which means that her papa is downstairs in the kitchen. Marinette scrounges around until she comes up with some pastries, puts them on a plate, and then beckons Adrien up the ladder and into her room.

“Oh wow,” Adrien says when he gets a good look at her room.

“I know. It’s really pink,” Marinette says, screwing up her nose. “That’s all Alya could say the first time she came over.”

“I like pink,” Adrien says with a small smile. “Besides, if it’s your favorite color, why shouldn’t you have it on your walls? I wish my father would let me paint my room. He insists on keeping the walls white.”

“What’s your favorite color?” Marinette asks, setting the plate of pastries down on her desk. 

“Green, but I would probably paint the walls blue if I could. A really deep, soft shade. Like bluebells.” His voice is kind of dreamy, and Marinette turns to look at him.

“That’s a flower, right?” she asks.

“Yeah. It’s just a color I find really comforting.”

Marinette thinks about that while she shrugs off her blazer and hangs her purse over her chair. “What do you think about using that color in our design? It sounds like a pretty striking shade, something that would grab attention, so we could pair it with a paler blue, cream or white.”

Adrien’s smile stretches from ear-to-ear this time. “I love that idea.”

“Great! Sometimes finding a color is the hardest part, I find. Let’s compare notes.” She hauls out a couple of her sketchbooks and slams them down on her chaise, gesturing for Adrien to take a seat. She sits in her desk chair and puts the pastries on the chaise too, so that they’re within easy reach of him. Just to make him feel more comfortable, she grabs a ginger cookie and bites into it as she flips open her sketchbook to a fresh page.

Much to her delight, Adrien takes a cookie too. “Do you want to focus on women’s evening wear?”

“I dunno. On the one hand, I feel like we can be more creative with dresses. On the other hand, fewer people will do men’s wear for that reason,” Marinette says. She puts her foot on the chaise and leans her elbow against her knee, propping her chin on her hand. 

“Let’s start with dresses and then we’ll move on from there,” Adrien suggests, reaching into his bag. Marinette smiles greedily when he pulls out a handful of sketchbooks. 

The next few hours fly by. They compare and disregard sketches, deeming each one not quite right for a variety of reasons. It’s… it’s _easy_. She wasn’t sure what it would be like to collaborate with another designer; she’s heard stories, and she’s seen Project Runway. She knows that it can be really hard for two different people to mesh their designs into something that’s not only cohesive, but genuinely interesting, fresh and eye-catching. 

But she and Adrien just seem to click, and Marinette is surprised to find that she’s having fun. A lot of fun. It’s really nice to have someone to bounce ideas off of. She can talk to Tikki about her designs, or her parents or Alya or Nino, but none of them really understand the way that Adrien does. Not only can he easily grasp what the problem is, he can offer solutions that actually work. 

In the end, they come up with a handful of sketches that might work. Emphasis on might. Looking at them, Marinette knows that they still need a lot of work before she and Adrien will be ready for the next step. And that’s just one design; they haven’t even touched on the second design yet. Then they’ll have to pick out their colors, choose their fabrics, do their measurements, and actually start making their garments.

It’s going to be a ton of work on top of her already packed schedule, but, as Marinette looks on as Adrien grabs the last cookie and pops it into his mouth, all she feels is the warm glow of excitement. It’s… it’s been a very long time since she had the chance to truly sink her teeth into a design project. Most of the time she just chips away at projects when she gets a moment to herself. This is something concrete that she has to finish because she’s made a promise to Adrien, and that’s what she needs.

“Marinette!” There’s a light knocking on the trap door before it opens, and her maman pokes her head through. “How is your work going?”

“Really great,” Marinette says with a grin. 

Maman smiles. “I’m glad. Dinner is almost ready. Will your friend be staying?”

Marinette glances at Adrien, who looks like a deer caught in headlights. “Yeah, I think so. If that’s okay, Maman.”

“Of course it is. Your know your papa always cooks more than enough. Come down in ten minutes.”

“Okay, we will.” Marinette waits for the trap door to fall shut before she turns to Adrien. “Sorry, I kind of made that decision for you. If you don’t want to stay –”

“No, I do!” Adrien says quickly. “I’d love to. Just let me call my father’s assistant and make sure it’s okay.”

“Sure,” Marinette says. She bends over her sketchbook and pretends to not be paying attention as Adrien makes the phone call, but they are still in the same room so it’s hard to miss. Adrien moves way and stands facing her bed as he calls.

“Hi Nathalie,” Adrien mutters into the phone. “I’ve been invited to stay at a friend’s house for dinner.” Pause. “Well, why does that matter?” Pause. “Is he planning to have supper with me?” Pause. “No, I didn’t think so. He’s always busy. So it shouldn’t matter if I eat here instead.” Another pause, longer this time. “Fine.”

That last word is clipped and cold, and Adrien hangs up immediately after. Marinette peeks up at him from beneath her lashes, noticing the tension in his shoulders. She can’t help wondering why he has to call his father’s assistant for permission rather than his father. The tone of his voice – sad, angry – when he said that his father was always busy speaks volumes, but they’re not conclusions that she’s comfortable drawing. She doesn’t know Adrien well enough for that yet.

“I can stay,” Adrien says at last, turning around. 

“Great,” Marinette says, perking up. “Come on. We’ll go downstairs now. Maman likes it when I help her set the table. You can help Papa bring the food out.”

Adrien looks interested, and he readily follows her downstairs. Marinette introduces him to her parents; her maman enfolds Adrien into a hug, because that’s what her maman does, and Marinette smiles to herself as she moves over to the cupboard to pull down four plates this time instead of three. She starts setting out the placemats and then putting down the plates. Maman joins her a moment later with the cutlery.

“He seems very nice, Marinette,” Maman whispers. “I like him.”

“I like him too,” Marinette replies. “He’s really good at designing, Maman. I think our entry for the contest is going to be awesome.”

“That’s wonderful. I’m so proud of you.” Maman brushes a strand of hair out of Marinette’s eyes and smiles at her. Marinette smiles back. Out of the corner of her eye, she catches a glimpse of Adrien’s face as he carries a pot of soup to the table: an expression that could only be described as wistful. It catches her off guard and she inhales sharply, turning to look fully at him, but his face has smoothed out to a small smile by that point.

“Sit down, Adrien,” Papa says, following Adrien in with a tray of warm bread and butter. He sets them out down on the table and Marinette takes her usual seat, pointing Adrien into the seat to her right. 

“Thank you for having me for dinner,” Adrien says politely.

“Marinette’s friends are always welcome here,” says Maman. “Did you move here recently, Adrien?” She moves to begin serving the soup.

“Actually, no. I was homeschooled for a long time. It’s only recently that I was able to convince my father that I wanted to do my last two years in public school,” Adrien explains. His eyes light up as Maman fills his bowl with plenty of soup, then hands him a couple pieces of bread.

“Homeschooling. That must’ve been interesting,” says Papa. He smiles at Maman as she gives him some soup.

“It was okay,” Adrien says slowly. “Now that I’m in public school, I realize I’m ahead on some subjects but behind in others. My tutors considered some subjects to be more important, I guess. And it was kind of lonely. I didn’t get to have much contact with other kids.” He looks up and catches Marinette’s eye, smiling at her. “That’s one of the reasons why I was so glad that Marinette forgave me.”

“Forgave you?” Maman asks, taking a seat after having served Marinette and then herself.

Marinette flushes pink. “Um, yeah.” Between bites of soup and buttered bread, she sheepishly explains their initial misunderstanding. Her papa laughs at her with good humor, while her maman gives her a chiding look. 

“Marinette, you know better than to jump to conclusions like that.”

“I know, Maman. Luckily, Adrien cleared it up and now we can enter that design contest together.” 

“Oh yes, the contest! Tell us about it!” Papa says, just like Marinette hoped that he would. He winks at her when Maman isn’t looking.

She launches into a description of what she and Adrien have been working on. Her parents both listen intently, asking the occasional question. It’s impossible not to notice when Adrien doesn’t join in, instead remaining quiet and sipping at his soup. Marientte studies him as she talks, wondering if he’s keeping quiet because he doesn’t want to share. Some designers are like that, she knows. They keep their creative process as quiet as possible.

But Adrien hasn’t shown any signs of being like that. He didn’t seem to mind when she was telling Alya about their preliminary sketches yesterday at lunch. She thinks it’s much more likely that Adrien just can’t talk to his father about anything design-related. She wonders what that’s like, filling sketchbook after sketchbook with no one to talk to, and aches at how _lonely_ he must be.

“Right, Adrien?” she says, and Adrien startles. “It was your idea to try the hoop skirt.”

“Really,” Maman says enthusiastically. “Tell us about it.”

“Uh, well, it-it seemed like… like we needed something… something bulkier than the pencil skirt we had there before,” Adrien stammers, eyes wide.

“Did it work?” Papa asks, leaning forward and giving Adrien his full focus.

Adrien visibly swallows. “Um… not as well as I’d hoped.”

“But you came up with a way to fix it,” Marinette prods. “The hoop skirt got us a lot further along. Thanks to that, we decided to go with the full-length skirt instead of half.”

“Yeah… well, for this one anyway.”

“And what about your colors?” Maman asks, looking at Adrien.

He hesitates, glancing at Marinette, but she just sits there and looks at him and finally he says, “We decided to go with bluebelle for the main color and we’re going to add some accents in.”

“Bluebelle,” Maman says. “Just like Marinette’s eyes.”

Adrien blinks and look over at her. “Uh, yeah, I guess?”

“And what colors will you use for the accents?” Maman asks.

Marinette takes a bite of her bread as her maman coaxes information out of Adrien. It’s not that he doesn’t want to talk to them, she thinks, but more that he keeps expecting them to not be interested in what he has to say. Poor boy has no idea. There is nothing that Sabine Cheng cannot find out if she wants to know. Marinette's been on the other side of that patient gaze and those calm questions too many times to doubt that. And right now, her maman really wants to know more about Adrien.

Which is how Marinette finds herself learning that Adrien's best subjects are physics and English, that he has a sweet tooth, and that, in addition to fencing, he also takes lessons in piano, photography, and Mandarin Chinese. That last one means that Maman and Adrien promptly have a fifteen minute conversation in Chinese which Marinette can only sort of follow; her understanding of Chinese is better than her attempts at speaking it, but she's woefully out of practice since they haven't visited her family in China for quite some time. She doesn't mind, though: Adrien is practically beaming, and Maman looks really happy.

"Come help me with dessert," Papa murmurs to her, and Marinette gets to her feet. She's pretty sure Maman and Adrien don't even notice when she picks up their empty bowls.

"What do we have tonight?" Marinette asks.

"I've made a Tiramisu," says Papa. "I want to see what you think. If you and Maman and Adrien like it, I may do it as a special in the bakery this week."

"It looks awesome," Marinette says, eyeing the cake. Her papa really is the best baker in the world. 

"Are you talking about the cake or Adrien?"

"Papa!" Marinette hisses, glaring at him. When he just grins, she glances quickly over her shoulder at the table. Thankfully, Maman and Adrien are still deep in conversation. Something about cats.

"What? I have eyes, _Ma Belle_ ," he teases quietly. "And I see where your attention has been focused for most of the meal."

"Adrien is my friend. I'm trying to make him more comfortable. I don't think he has an easy time at home," Marinette whispers back. "It's not like that." She can't help the hint of exasperation that seeps into her voice. First Alya, then her maman, now her papa. It's like all of them are conspiring to get her and Adrien to go out on a date.

And okay, maybe if Chat weren't in the picture, Marinette would give the idea some serious consideration. After all, Adrien seems like a really nice guy. But how can she date someone knowing that they'll never have the kind of bond that she has with Chat? They are literally two halves of a whole. She trusts Chat with her life, but it goes deeper than that: she would trust him with her friends, or even her maman and papa. She's pretty much at the point where she's willing to trust Chat with her identity. No normal guy can compete with that, or would even want to.

But that's not something she can tell her nosey friends or family, either. None of them have any idea that Marinette has someone like that in her life, and they can't know. It adds an extra layer of frustration to Maman's and Alya's well intentioned attempts to get Marinette to date. She can't explain to them that any other guy comes off as second rate to her partner, or that sometimes it feels like her heart beats for Chat and Chat alone - or that she's had so many fantasies of someday marrying Chat that she's got a stack of sketchbooks stashed in her closet that are filled with Ladybug-themed wedding dresses and Chat Noir-themed tuxedos.

"Okay. I believe you," Papa says, resting a big hand on her shoulder. "You're a good girl, Marinette, for trying to help him."

"He's my friend," Marinette says, picking up the dessert plates, and practically darts back to the table before her papa can say anything else. Papa follows, carrying the cake in his hands.

"Wow!" Adrien gasps, breaking off mid-sentence to stare at the cake with wide eyes. "That looks incredible."

"Thank you," Papa says. "This cake comes with an important job, Adrien. Do you think you're up to the task?"

"Uh, yes?" Adrien says uncertainly.

Papa points at him. "I need you to be completely honest about what you think. I try out all my recipes on my family and Marinette's friends before I put them into the bakery. So if you don't like it, or think something needs to be changed, I have to know."

"O-oh. But I'm not a baker?"

"That's a good thing," Papa says. "It's just as important for me to know what the average person thinks of my sweets. When you're a baker, you sometimes lose sight of what a customer might like. You get too focused on making things look fancy, or following the latest trend, or putting together flavor combinations that the bakery world thinks works but which a regular customer wouldn't." He smiles ruefully. "That's why it's good to have people around who can give it to you straight. I don't want to waste my time baking things that people aren't going to be interested in buying."

Marinette leans over to Adrien and whispers, "Papa got on a kick about putting bacon into everything a few months ago. We had to have an intervention after a customer had a breakdown because we didn't have anything that didn't have bacon on it."

Adrien pinches his lips like he wants to laugh and nods solemnly. "I understand. I'll give you my honest opinion."

Papa grins. "Good. Ma Chérie, would you be so kind as to cut the cake?" He offers the knife to Maman, who takes it with a smile and begins cutting the cake into even pieces. She hands the first two slices to Adrien and Marinette.

"It's delicious, Papa," Marinette says once she's had several bites. The cake is smooth and creamy, tasting of coffee and cocoa and a hint of caramel. "I really like it."

"Me too," Adrien says. "I like the caramel."

"That's my own addition. A traditional Tiramisu doesn't have caramel, but I decided to add some in," Papa says. "Is it a winner?"

"Two thumbs up," Marinette says, holding her hands up and giving a thumbs up. Maman and Adrien copy her and Papa laughs.

When they're finished dessert, Adrien has to leave. Marinette sees him to the door, sending him off with a small box of croissants that didn't sell that day. She closes the door and watches Adrien walk over to the car that's parked in front of the bakery. A massive man gets out of the car and opens the back door for him. Marinette smiles to herself when Adrien opens the bakery box and offers a croissant to the driver. 

"He's a really nice person," Tikki says, and Marinette glances down to see that Tikki has popped out of her pocket.

"Yeah, he is. I'm glad he came to my school," she says.

"I bet you are," Tikki says with a knowing smile. Before Marinette can chastise her, they hear Maman calling for Marinette to come help with the dishes. Tikki leaps back into Marinette's pocket and Marinette hurries up the stairs.


	5. Chapter 5

The next day is, fortunately, Saturday. She spends most of the day with Alya, Rose, Juleka, Alix and Mylène at the swimming pool in the morning and then a movie in the afternoon. She gets home just in time to join her parents for dinner before it's time for her patrol with Chat. Her pulse quickens as she scurries upstairs and quietly locks the trap door. Her parents believe she's going to be working on her designs, and they know enough to leave her alone while she's doing that. She'll have at least three hours of uninterrupted time to spend with Chat.

After transforming, Ladybug leaps out the window, onto the balcony, and then over the rail. It's just starting to get dark. This is one of her favorite times of the day, when Paris is still bubbling with activity but things are starting to calm. Some people wave and call out to her as she soars overhead. Ladybug waves back at them, but doesn't let their presence distract her from getting to the Eiffel Tower. Already she can see the black figure waiting for her, seated upon one of their favorite beams near the top, where no one else can reach them.

Chat Noir gets to his feet when she lands on the beam. "Hello, My Lady."

"Hi, _Chaton_ ," she says, moving forward to hug him. He lets her, but she can feel that there's something off about him. She pulls back to study him and almost immediately notices that he's favoring his left ankle.

"It's okay," Chat says, following her gaze.

"It's not okay. That's three in a row! He's escalating."

Chat shakes his head. "It was my fault. I provoked him. I was late getting home last night, and he was angry."

"Chat..." Emotion clogs her throat, rendering her speechless for a moment. 

"He just pushed me," Chat adds, as though that makes it better. "I wrenched my ankle when I fell."

She puts both hands on his shoulders and stares into his face. "Tell me that you know it wasn't right for him to do that. Please. You always tell me that it's nothing, or say that you provoked him somehow. It's not nothing, and there is no good enough excuse for him hitting or pushing you." Her voice comes out kind of choked.

Chat looks alarmed. "Don't cry, LB. Please don't cry. It's okay." He pulls her into another hug, letting her tuck her face into the curve of his neck. "I don't mean it like that. I know it's not okay. I just... it's easier sometimes to think about it like that, because there are these other times when he's a perfectly nice dad and it just... it fucks me up. I've never figured out what the switch is, or why it happens. It's… it’s easy to think it's me."

"It's not you. You're the best kitty in the whole wide world," she whispers, hugging him as tightly as she dares when she suspects that his ribs are probably still tender. The suit will protect him to some degree, but there's no point in risking causing him unnecessary pain. 

"I wish my dad thought that way," he says sadly. "He was really mad at me. He kept saying he should've never let me go to public school."

Ladybug freezes. "What?"

"Yeah. I didn't tell you because... well, I know your whole thing about keeping our identities a secret. You know I was homeschooled as a kid, but I managed to talk him into letting me going to school for my last two years." Chat huffs out a wet laugh. "I still don't know what made him agree. Maybe he just got tired of hearing my talk about it. Or hell, knowing my dad, it was his screwed up way of trying to apologize. That's how I got the DDR machine in my room."

"How?" she whispered, her brain on overdrive. Chat went to Collège Françoise Dupont. He'd told her that himself. There was only one student at the school who had joined recently after having been homeschooled. A student who had already admitted that he didn't have a great relationship with his father. A student who had a sprained wrist mere hours before Chat showed up with a sprained wrist. A student who had been at her house for supper late last night. A student who had blond hair, green eyes, and a very similar weigh, height and build to her partner.

"It was after the first time he hit me," Chat admitted. "He said it would never happen again. How dumb was I to believe it?"

Her heart cracks. Ladybug pulls back, cupping his face with her hands. "Chat, you're not dumb. He's your father. Of course you believed him."

"Sometimes I think I can't stay there anymore or I'll go crazy," he whispers. "Being Chat Noir is the only thing that keeps me sane. That, and knowing that I get to spend time with you. If I had to spend all my time locked up alone in that house, I would lose it."

"You're not alone, Chat. You're not alone." Adrien, she adds silently, and hugs him again. Her heart is racing and she feels a bit weak at the knees with the realization that's hit her, but Chat is holding her so closely and tightly that there's no way she could fall. 

"I know. That's why I'm so glad I have you, My Lady. I need you."

"I need you too," Ladybug says. She wishes more than anything that they were old enough to do something about it. She suggested to Chat once that he call the police, but he'd freaked out and refused. His reasoning was that there would be too much attention on him if people started investigating what was happening, and that meant he would have a harder time escaping to be Chat Noir. And now that she knows, or at least suspects, who he is, she also gets that he's probably worried about how much influence his father has. Gabriel Agreste is a big name in Paris. Not many people would be willing to believes that he abuses his child.

She wants to ask him if he's Adrien Agreste and, if he is, she wants to tell him who she is. But she's also aware enough to realize that that kind of information shouldn't be shared out in the open like this. If Chat freaks out, she doesn't want the video footage to end up on the Ladyblog later on. No. She makes a split second decision that she'll invite Adrien over tomorrow. Once they're in the privacy of her bedroom, they can talk. Then he can have whatever reaction he needs to have, and it'll be just her and Tikki and Plagg with no one else the wiser.

But oh, it's hard to keep the words in. Several times during their patrol she has to bite her tongue, and she finds herself watching him more closely than ever. She doesn't know Adrien very well yet, but she thinks she can see him in Chat. Or Chat in him, whichever way it's supposed to be. 

By the end of their patrol, she’s calmed down some. SHe knows it was only a matter of time. Ladybug and Chat Noir know each other too well not to recognize each other as civilians. It may not have happened immediately, but sooner or later it's inevitable that one of them would've said something that ticked the other off. It just so happened to be Chat.

"Are you okay?" Chat asks right before they part ways, cocking his head quizzically. He looks so much like an actual kitten that she wishes she could take a picture. Not for the Ladyblog, but just for herself.

"I'm fine," she says, which is sort of true: she's filled to the brim with so many conflicting emotions, relief and giddiness and sadness and worry, that she feels like she's going to pop. 

"You've been acting funny tonight." He studies her face, looking concerned. "LB, please don't drive yourself crazy worrying about me. I'd rather hide it then have you worry."

She shoots him a sharp look. "And I told you that I need to know, because if you're hurt and there's an akuma attack, I need to be able to adapt my plans to compensate for your injury. I am not okay with causing you unnecessary pain, _mon minou_. You know that." 

That's her official line, anyway. The other part of it, which they don't talk about but are both aware of, is that she and Chat just know each other too well now. After nearly two years of fighting together regularly, plus hanging out and patrolling, she knows Chat better than she knows herself. They can have a full conversation without ever opening their mouths. Alya's actually made posts on the Ladyblog wondering if they have a way of communicating telepathically. They don't, but the point is that Ladybug would be able to tell if Chat was injured even if he was trying to hide it. She just knows him.

“Yeah, I know,” Chat says, sighing and rolling his eyes. She gently punches him in the shoulder and he laughs, catching her hand and bringing it up to his lips to give it a kiss. 

“Be careful going home tonight,” she says.

“I will. Adieu, My Lady.”

“Salut, _Chaton_ ,” she whispers, watching him run to the end of the beam. If she didn’t know him so well, she wouldn’t even notice the slight limp. But she does and it hurts. She doesn’t think she can wait two years until Chat turns eighteen and can move out of the house, but what can they do in the meantime? What can she do?

She stands there and watches until he’s out of sight, then turns and leaps off the beam herself. She falls through the air towards the ground and launches her yoyo at the last second, letting the string snap taut and propel her forward instead of down. The journey home isn’t nearly as pleasant; instead of taking the long way like she usually does, she takes the short way and is on her balcony in less than fifteen minutes.

“Spots off,” she whispers, and then, before the red light has even dissipated, adds, “I’m right, aren’t I? Adrien is Chat?”

Tikki shakes her head, looking a little dizzy. “You know I can’t confirm that, Marinette. I don’t know who Chat Noir is.”

“But you must have a guess,” Marinette says, planting her hands on her hips. Her kwami hesitates, not meeting Marinette’s eyes, for the longest time. Desperation coils inside of Marinette the longer the silence drags on, and she’s just about ready to break down and beg when Tikki finally speaks.

“I sense Plagg now, when you’re in your classroom,” Tikki says slowly. “I was never able to before Adrien joined your class. Actually, it’s the closest Plagg and I have been outside of our miraculous in centuries.” She sounds wistful. “And I was able to sense him even stronger when you and Adrien were in your bedroom. So yes. If I had to guess, I would say it’s probable that you’re right.”

Marinette exhales, sinking down onto her lounge. “I’ve found him,” she whispers, shivering. “I found my kitty.”

“Does he know?” Tikki asks.

“I don’t think so. He might suspect, but Chat knows I didn’t want to share my identity. He’s always respected that, so he probably hasn’t looked very hard.” It’s ironic, she thinks, that Chat is the one who always wanted to know, yet it’s Marinette who figured it out first. And she wasn’t even trying, not really. The puzzle pieces just slotted together in her mind. 

“Can I be a hypocrite?”

“Sure.”

“I know I said it was important to keep your identities a secret, but I’m glad you know,” Tikki confesses. “I know you’re worried about Chat, and I miss Plagg a lot.”

“Aw, Tikki.” Marinette holds a hand out for her kwami to land on. “I’m going to text Adrien right now to see if he can come over tomorrow. I’m going to tell him the truth. Then you can see Plagg as much as you want!”

Tikki smiles. “I’d like that a lot. And Marinette, I hope you know that the reason I insisted on the secret wasn’t because I thought Chat Noir couldn’t be trusted.”

“What do you mean?” Marinette asks. 

“The Guardian always insists that identities be kept secret at first for safety reasons. It’s hard to know whether someone will make a good miraculous holder until they’ve been at it for a while. There have been times in the past when the Guardian had to take a miraculous away because the person wasn’t a good choice, for whatever reason. Sometimes when that happens previous holders can be spiteful or angry or bitter, and they lash out. In this day and age, it would be too easy for someone to post Ladybug’s identity on the internet.”

Marinette winces. “Uh, yeah, that would be all over the world in seconds. But Chat would never do that.”

“I know that now, and so do you. But we didn’t know that when we began. Besides, now you two have built up a bond of trust between you. You don’t have to worry about telling a perfect stranger your biggest secret and then wondering if they’re going to run off to Hawkmoth.”

“Has that happened?” Marinette asks, looking at Tikki sharply. “Other miraculous holders teaming up with the one that’s gone evil?”

“Sometimes evil is more subjective than it should be,” Tikki says tiredly. “Yes, it’s happened. And again, I know you know that Chat Noir would never do that. That’s why I feel more comfortable with you telling him now.” She reaches up and pats Marinette’s cheek. “You’re a good Ladybug, and he’s a good Chat Noir. You deserve to be happy together.”

“Oh my god,” Marinette says in slow dawning horror. “Chat is Adrien. I’m in love with Adrien. _Oh my god_. Alya and Maman are _never_ going to let me hear the end of this!”

Tikki starts to laugh. “Oh, Marinette.”

“Ugh, Tikki, this is a real problem!” Marinette pouts and throws herself backwards against the lounge. She sets Tikki on her knee so that she can use both hands to text. Regardless of the teasing she’s going to receive, she’s not gonna let that keep her from her kitty.

**M.D.C.: hey you free to come over tomorrow? Thought we could work on our project**

Then she waits, because she’s not actually sure where Adrien lives or how long it typically takes Chat to get home and sneak back in. And that’s if he doesn’t get caught by his dad. Picturing that kind of confrontation is a hundred times worse now that the images in her head aren’t of a faceless boy, but of Adrien instead. She closes her eyes and prays that tonight, Adrien gets to go to bed with no new bruises.

Her phone vibrates. She nearly drops it in her haste to check the screen.

**A.A.: Sure! Sounds great what time**

**M.D.C.: How about 9:30 we can work for a while and then have lunch**

**A.A.: ok works for me see you then**

The conversation is short and to the point, but she takes comfort in the fact that he was able to answer and that he did so readily. It still makes her feel a little sick to know he’s sleeping under the same roof as someone who is hurting him. She stares at the sky for a while before Tikki gently tells her to go inside; she goes in, says goodnight to her parents, and gets ready for bed.

But it takes her a long time to fall asleep.


	6. Chapter 6

For once, there’s no need for an alarm or for her maman to wake her up. Marinette sleeps poorly and finally gives up on sleep by the time the sun is cresting the horizon. She gets up, throws her hair into a sloppy bun, and pulls on an old tank top and a ratty pair of jeans. She slinks downstairs, where the warmth and loud machinery and laughter from the bakery draws her in like balm to a wound. Her papa takes one look at her puffy eyes and puts her to work kneading bread.

The word is soothing and repetitive, something Marinette has been doing since she was young, and she throws herself into it. She pounds away at the mounds of dough until they’re ready to be left to rise. By then she’s feeling a little calmer, so she moves on to helping her maman decorate cupcakes. It’s one of her favorite pthings to do, because she can let her creative side out to play. 

“Chat Noir?” Maman says in her ear at one point, and Marinette starts badly enough that she ends up with a dot of green icing on her cheek.

“What? Oh.” She looks down at her work, realizing that her mind was definitely focused on one specific thing. Most of the cupcakes have dark chocolate frosting for a base, with green pawprints or kitty faces for decoration. 

“You should do some Ladybug ones,” Maman says. “What a great idea! We can have superhero cupcakes.”

“Uh, okay.” Marinette reaches for another plate and gives them red frosting for a base, and then, for the black spots on top, carefully adds chocolate chips. They look kind of like her yoyo when they’re all said and done. She hands the two platters over to her maman to be taken out front.

Then, just for fun, she takes the last platter of cupcakes and draws a yin-yang symbol on them. Half red, with a black kitty paw. The other half is black, with a red ladybug. She’s more careful with her details on these ones, wanting them to turn out perfectly, and is actually kind of proud when she sits back to see how they look. They’re not up to her Maman’s delicate work, but she thinks they’re good.

“Marinette?” Papa calls. “Your maman says to tell you that Adrien is here. She sent him upstairs to the living room.”

“Adrien?” Marinette grabs her phone and swears under her breath when she realizes it’s 9:31am. She completely forgot about the time, and now she doesn’t have time to run upstairs and change. She looks down at her tank top, which is now dusted with flour and streaks of frosting, and sighs. Why does she do this to herself?

“Take some cupcakes to tide you over until lunch,” Papa says, making his way over to her. He puts half a dozen of the yin-yang cupcakes on a plate and hands it to her. Marinette takes the plate and moves towards the door. But then, remembering that Tikki has told her that Chat’s kwami likes cheese, she snags a couple of cheese danishes and adds them to the plate too.

“Hi Adrien,” Marinette says as she pushes the door to the apartment open.

Adrien looks up at her and smiles. “Hi Marinette.”

“Sorry, I was just helping Maman and Papa in the bakery. Come on up.” She leads the way up to her bedroom. Thankfully, Adrien slips up the steps first and opens the trap door for her. Unfortunately, that means Marinette gets to see herself in the mirror when she can’t do anything about it. She feels like screaming when she sees the green frosting on her cheek, the smear of chocolate on her forehead, and the flour in her hair.

“Did you want me to take that?” Adrien asks, holding his hands out for the platter, and Marinette practically shoves it at him.

“Yeah, I just – bathroom.” She practically falls down the steps, face burning, and rushes for the bathroom. It’s too late to change her clothes, but at least she can wash her face and dust off her hair. She lets it down from the bun and combs it out, shaking her head at herself.

“It’s not that bad, Marinette,” Tikki says, emerging from Marinette’s jean pocket.

“It’s pretty bad,” Marinette says ruefully, scrubbing at the stains on her tank top. “I should’ve set an alarm.”

“With your tendency to ignore alarms, I’m not sure it would’ve helped,” Tikki says impishly.

Marinette glares at her. “You’re not helping.”

Tikki just giggles and tags along as Marinette finally gives up and walks out of the bathroom. She returns to her bedroom to find that Adrien has set the plate of cupcakes and danishes on her desk and is sitting primly on her chaise, waiting for her. It’s so reminiscent of how Chat used to act back when she first started bringing pastries to him, and he was never sure if he was allowed to have any, that it tugs at her heart.

“Those are for us,” she says, gesturing to the cupcakes. “I just finished them, actually. Have one.”

“You made these?” Adrien says. “They look amazing!”

She flushes. “Well, I didn’t make the batter or bake them, but I did decorate them. I was doing Chat cupcakes and Maman suggested I do Ladybug ones, and then I got the idea for a joint cupcake. After all, they are best when they’re together.”

Adrien carefully takes a cupcake, looking down at it with a thoughtful expression. “I’m not so sure I agree with that. Ladybug is the one who does most of the work. Chat just kind of tags along for the ride.”

“What?” Marinette says, staring at him.

“Well, it’s true isn’t it? Ladybug’s been able to fight against Chat lots of times. She can handle akumas on her own. But if it were just Chat –”

“He would be fine,” she interrupts, planting her hands on her hips and staring him down. “Chat is just as important and capable as Ladybug is. Most of the times he’s been hit by akumas, it’s because he was protecting Ladybug. She’s the one who’s clumsy and not as capable as she could be.”

“That’s not true!” Adrien argues. “Ladybug always saves the day!”

“Because Chat lets her! Ladybug would never have gotten as far as she has without him!”

Adrien lets out a snort. “Please, Marinette. Chat will never be as valuable as Ladybug. Everyone knows that.”

“Everyone is _wrong_ ,” Marinette hisses. “Chat is always protecting her. He makes jokes to ease the tension. Ladybug takes everything too seriously sometimes. Sure, sometimes his puns can be annoying when they’re in the middle of a battle, but they also make her smile. He knows how to talk her out of a bad idea, and he always has her back. He never hesitates to take an order from her. Do you even know how rare that is for a guy to do that?”

“Not really?” Adrien is starting to look a little intimidated, but Marinette can’t stop.

“It’s super rare! Last time I worked with Kim on a project, he second-guessed everything I said. Chat never does that! Not unless he has a genuine issue with whatever plan Ladybug has cooked up. He hardly ever gets mad when she screws up, and don’t you dare say she doesn’t because she _does_. He’s believed in her from day one, when Ladybug wanted to give up because she messed up so bad. He’s the whole reason Ladybug even exists! Without him, Ladybug would be _nothing_!”

Marinette doesn’t even realize she’s yelling until she stops, panting, and hears nothing but silence in contrast to how loud she was moments ago. Adrien is staring at her with his mouth open. She immediately blushes and covers her mouth, mortified. Oh shit. She didn’t mean to get so fired up. This was supposed to be a calm, peaceful conversation, not turn into a debate about who matters more.

“Shit, Adrien, I’m sorry. I get really riled up when people talk bad about Chat in front of me.”

“Obviously,” Adrien says with a hint of a smile. “I had no idea you were such a fan of him.”

“Of course I am,” Marinette says, and here it comes. “I have to be a fan of my own partner.”

Adrien opens his mouth and then pauses. “Wait. What?”

“I know who you are,” Marinette says as gently as possible, meeting his gaze. 

He physically recoils. “What – that’s not – I’m not –”

“But it’s okay. I’m Ladybug.”

He freezes, green eyes widening, and doesn’t move. His cupcake falls from his limp fingers, landing on the ground. 

“Adrien?” Marinette asks cautiously, leaning down slightly.

He still doesn’t move.

“Okay. That was a big shock. You take your time.” She eyes him worriedly but backs off, picking up one of the remaining cupcakes. They’re chocolate, thank goodness, and Marinette takes a big bite. The slightly bitter chocolate mixes with the sweetness of the frosting to make a perfect bite and she hums softly.

“I want a cupcake too,” Tikki pipes up immediately.

“There are lots here. Come get one.”

Tikki emerges from Marinette’s pocket. Marinette glances at Adrien and sees that his eyes are tracking Tikki, but he’s still not moving. He doesn’t even seem to be breathing. Her concern mounts as she plucks another cupcake from the platter and peels off the liner. She sets it down in front of Tikki, who lets out an excited squeal and buries her face in the frosting.

“Plagg,” Marinette calls gently. “I have a cheese danish for you.”

There’s finally some movement from Adrien, but it’s coming from the black kitty kwami wiggling its way out of Adrien’s shirt pocket. One of Plagg’s ears twitches and Marinette instantly falls in love. He’s one of the most adorable things she’s ever seen.

“It’s about time,” Plagg says, drifting closer to her. “I was getting tired of hearing my kitten moan over you.”

Adrien makes a choked sound.

“Plagg!” Tikki squeals before Marinette can say anything, launching herself off the desk. Cupcake forgotten, she crashes into Plagg with enough enthusiasm to send the two kwamis spiralling head over heels into the air. Marinette sets the danish down beside Tikki’s cupcake and watches them, smiling. They’re utterly adorable together, especially when they start circling each other and waving their little paws in excitement.

“My Lady?”

She turns quickly, realizing that Adrien is watching her. “Are you – sorry. I shouldn’t have sprung that on you. I just wasn’t sure how to say it, because it really threw me for a loop when I figured it out, and that’s why I invited you over today. Well, I wanted to work on our project too because it’s so much fun but I aso thought that it would be best if you found out in a private space and –”

“Hey, breathe,” Adrien says. He’s pale, but smiling, as he stands up. 

Marinette forces herself to take a deep breath. “Are you mad?”

“Mad? Why would I be mad?”

“Because I didn’t tell you right away.”

He pauses, cocking his head. “How long have you known?”

“Only since last night. You said – Chat said he’d been homeschooled.”

Adrien closes his eyes and sighs. “Of course. I didn’t even think about that. I should be the one apologizing. I’m the only homeschooled student who has recently joined Collège Françoise Dupont. I might as well have just told you that my name is Adrien Agreste.”

“It was pretty obvious,” Marinette admits. “I wasn’t trying to figure it out, but it was pretty hard not to after that. And I should’ve said something, but –”

“Hey, I get it. It’s huge,” Adrien interrupts, waving his hand. “I’m not angry. You told me, and that’s what matters.” He takes a deep breath, looking her over. “I can’t believe I know who Ladybug is now. I can’t believe I’ve been friends with Ladybug’s civilian self for over two weeks and I didn’t even realize it. I always thought I’d know you as soon as I saw you.”

She smiles at that. “Tikki tells me that the magic of the miraculous can be hard to see past. There were plenty of clues that neither one of us picked up on.” She moves a little closer, reaching for his right hand. He lets her take it. Marinette pushes his sleeve up a little, showing off the bandage strategically wrapped around Adrien’s wrist. It probably hurts more now that he’s not transformed, so she makes sure not to touch it.

“Yeah,” Adrien says softly, flexing his fingers. “I… wow. This is going to take me a little while to wrap my brain around.”

“Take as long as you need. Here, have another cupcake.” She lets go of his hand, picks up a third cupcake and passes it to him. Then she picks up the remainder of hers and takes a second bite. The sugar helps to defuse the tension, making her feel more centered. This is undeniably momentous, but they can handle this.


	7. Chapter 7

Adrien eats his cupcake in four large bites and pronounces it delicious. Marinette smile and gives him a second one. Tikki and Plagg have stopped circling each other and have alighted on her desk; they’re now both chowing down on their respective treats and whispering to each other in a language that Marinette isn’t familiar with. That gives her pause, because she’s never heard Tikki speak anything but French, but she supposes that their kwamis have been all over the world at this point and probably know languages that don’t even exist anymore.

“Okay,” Adrien says at last, licking the last of the frosting off his fingers. “Okay, I think I’m good. For the record, I can’t believe you told me after you gave me a lecture about how important Chat Noir is to Ladybug. That was some impressive third person talking.”

“Oh, shut up,” Marinette says, blushing faintly. “I’m used to it. You must be too.”

“My father isn’t a big fan of Paris’s superheroes, so not really. I guess I don’t talk about Ladybug and Chat Noir very often.”

Marinette shrugs. “Well, my best friend is the owner of the Ladyblog. Some days that’s practically all Alya talks about. I have to be used to it. The miraculous magic only extends so far. If I slip up and refer to myself as Ladybug, Alya will be all over it.” She gives a wry smile. “The last thing I need is for Alya to have to decide between me and the biggest scoop of her whole life.”

“That’s fair.” Adrien fiddles with his cupcake liners, not meeting her eyes. “Do you… really think that? About Chat? About… me?”

“Of course. Adrien, you’re everything to me,” Marinette says passionately, and then, when he looks up at her in surprise, turns a shade of red to rival her suit. “I-I-I mean, you’re my partner. I’ve _always_ thought of you as my partner. Not my sidekick. _Never_ my sidekick.”

“But you can fight akumas without me,” he points out.

“And you could fight them without me. Just because you can’t purify them doesn’t mean you’re not capable of doing everything else.” She sits down on the chaise beside him. “ _Chaton_ , I couldn’t do what I do without you. The stress alone would do me in, to say nothing of all the times you’ve saved my ass over the years. And I don’t just mean with akumas. I mean with all the times you’ve made me want to keep going, because I knew if I did I’d get to see you again.”

Adrien’s red now too, but he’s watching her with something like awe in his eyes. “Really?”

“Really. Ladybug gets more attention, but that’s because people are dumb and only see that I’m the one who fixes the damage. They can’t see that, without you, I would never get that far.”

“I didn’t know you thought that way,” Adrien says, very softly.

“I guess there’s a lot we don’t know about each other,” Marinette admits. “I didn’t know you were a fantastic fashion designer, for example.” 

“I don’t know if I’d go that far,” Adrien says, but he’s smiling at her. 

“And you didn’t know that I was a fabulous baker,” Marinette continues. “But that’s not a bad thing. Because now we can learn those things about each other.” She smiles back and dares to take his mind. Adrien drops his gaze to where their hands.

“Did you know… our second anniversary is coming up?” he asks.

“I know,” Marinette says. It’s in three days, as a matter of fact. She’s been working on a gift for Chat for weeks now, but she supposes that she’ll be able to give it to Adrien instead. She likes the idea of that. It will be nice to actually see him wear it.

“Would you… would you like to go on a date with me that day?” Adrien says, sounding unusually shy. “I know it’s a school day, but we could meet up after classes and do something fun, and then have supper.”

She beams. “I would love that.”

He perks up. “Okay. Okay, that’s – gosh, I love the idea of being able to spend time with you outside of patrols and fighting akumas, My Lady.”

“I do too, but ix-nay on the ‘My Lady’ thing,” she says, gently tapping him on the nose. “Thanks to Alya, everyone in Paris knows that Chat calls Ladybug that. If you start using it out of the blue, people are definitely going to notice. That also goes for Bugaboo and Buginette and anything else you usually call me when we’re in costume.”

“And I suppose that means you can’t call me anything cat-related,” he says with a disappointed frown.

“Unfortunately,” Marinette says with a regretful nod, but she knows they don’t have a choice. It’s going to be really hard biting those nicknames back. They just roll off her tongue naturally now. She’s going to have to come up with some other kind of nickname to use instead. 

“Darn.” Adrien pouts for a moment, which is so cute that her heart actually skips a beat. She looks away so as not to succumb to a heart attack, noticing that Tikki and Plagg have finished with their cupcake and danish. There’s no sign of them, but the cover is pulled over Tikki’s cocoon. That means Tikki wants privacy, which is fair. If Marinette hadn’t seen her partner for over a hundred years, she’d want some privacy for their reunion too.

“So tell me,” Marinette says, since this is an ideal opportunity for her and Adrien to catch up, “everything that I don’t know about Adrien Agreste.”

He looks at her, amused. “Honestly, it’s hard for me to remember what you do and don’t know. But I do know for sure that you know everything that matters. I’m pretty sure that all I kept from you was the superficial stuff that would’ve been too much of a hint as to who I am.”

Marinette conceeds that point, because the same goes for her. It’s amazing what you can tell someone even when you can’t tell them your name or too many details about your family or friends. She knows that Chat adores chocolate but doesn’t like coconut; she knows how long he practiced piano last week; she knows he plays piano because it reminds him of his mère, she knows that he likes the smell of petrichor, but that he hates rain; she knows that he had oatmeal with bananas for breakfast yesterday; she knows that he misses his mom and sometimes hates his dad.

But she wants more. Always more. She wants to know everything there is to know about her partner.

“Then tell me that stuff,” she whispers, shifting so she can lay back on the chaise. She pats her shoulder invitingly, feeling a thrill as his eyes light up. He moves quickly and with unnatural grace that he must struggle to hide it in everyday life, laying on his side and cuddling up to her. He rests his head on her shoulder, ear positioned just right so that he can listen to her heart beat.

“My favorite color is green, but the color I find most comforting is the same shade of blue as your eyes,” he begins. “I guess your maman was right.”

She smiles into his hair, resting her cheek on his head. “I should’ve guessed right then and there. I know how much you love flowers.”

Even though she can’t see his face, she suspects that he’s smiling too. They start off by exchanging basic facts about themselves, but that quickly gets derailed into the kind of lazy, playful conversations that she loves so much. She learns that he’s allergic to penicillin, latex and shellfish, that his favorite sport is basketball and that his favorite animal is a cat (she almost pushes him off the chaise for that, while he laughs and laughs).

“Are you telling me you don’t love cats?” Adrien purrs, nuzzling his cheek against her shoulder.

“I’m more of a hamster person,” Marinette says, running light fingers through his hair. A familiar rumble flares to light and Marinette’s eyes open wide. Her soft gasp seems to alert Adrien, who squeaks.

“It’s not what you think!”

“Yes it is. You’re purring!” she gushes, utterly delighted. “Oh my god, I didn’t know you could purr without being Chat!”

Adrien grumbles. “It doesn’t happen unless I’m really happy or upset,” he mutters, rubbing at the back of his neck. “It’s embarrassing.”

“It’s adorable,” she corrects. “What’s embarrassing is having to replace your neighbor’s flowers because you snuck over in the middle of the night and ate all of them.”

“… I thought ladybugs ate aphids?” Adrien says, craning his neck to peer at her curiously.

Marinette makes a face. “I have a craving for those too, but I made the mistake of biting a flower petal one day and _ugh_. They’re so sweet and light. And an aphid _and_ a flower petal?” Her mouth waters just thinking about it. She has to swallow to keep saliva from running down her chin. 

“I’m glad it’s not just me.”

“I’d rather purr than circle the roses Papa bought for Maman like a shark.”

He cracks a grin. “If it helps, our chef has caught me lapping milk out of a saucer like a dozen times now.”

“Out of a saucer?”

“It just tastes better,” he says defensively. “I also have a fascination with yarn, and an obsession with boxes.”

“I hate the cold, but you already knew that,” she says. Their first winter together wasn’t easy. Marinette’s never been so cold or so sleepy in her life. She idly wonders what their second winter will be like, since now Adrien can be with her all day. Maybe she can even talk Alya into swapping places with Adrien, so that she can sit beside him and curl up under his arm during classes…

“I remember. I don’t even like the rain when I’m not transformed, which sucks. I used to like walking in it.”

She pats his head in sympathy. “My appetite has increased by… a lot. Ladybugs eat a lot, apparently.”

“I slow blink when I care about someone, but that’s more Plagg’s fault than mine.”

“I know,” Marinette says, smiling slightly. Chat was so embarrassed the first time she asked him if his eyes were bothering him because he kept blinking at her. She’s not sure why they’ve never talked about this stuff before. Maybe because it affects their civilian selves more than their transformed selves?

He frowns up at her. “You could pretend that you don’t enjoy it.”

“I think it’s cute,” she coos, deliberately slow blinking at him. He slow blinks back, cheeks pink.


	8. Chapter 8

“Marinette!”

Maman’s voice cuts through their conversation like a mixer through soft dough. Adrien startles badly enough that he nearly falls of the chaise; she grabs him just in time, wrapping both arms around his waist to keep him from falling. He’s breathing rapidly, either from panic or fear, and she automatically slides a hand up his arm to his shoulders and rubs a soothing circle.

“What is it, Maman?” she calls back.

“Lunch is ready. Papa and I are busy in the bakery, so we’ll eat later. But I’ve set out some sandwiches whenever you and Adrien get hungry!”

“Thanks,” Marinette shouts, then drops her voice. “Shh, hey, it’s okay. It was just Maman.”

“I know,” Adrien says, uncoiling slightly. His left hand is fisted in her shirt, holding on so tightly his knuckles are white. “It just… surprised me.”

“I’m sorry. My parents often call up to me rather than coming up, especially if they’re busy.” She wonders if he’s always this sensitive to loud voices when he’s Adrien. She’s never seen him react this way as Chat. Then again, she’s pretty sure Chat has never had to face an abusive parent. No, that ‘honor’ would be reserved solely for Adrien. It’s as heartbreaking as it is infuriating.

"It's not a big deal." Adrien is trying hard to sound casual, and she might even believe him if it weren't for the fact that they're pressed so tightly together that she can feel a thin tremor rolling through him.

"It's actually a huge deal," Marinette says. "And I would give anything to be able to fix it for you. I really would."

He stills then, looking up at her. "You would?"

"Of course I would. You deserve to have a home where you're not afraid. I hate the fact that you have to go back there. I couldn't sleep last night worrying about it. It’s even worse now that I know who you are behind the mask, because I could picture everything so much more clearly." She puts her hand over his hand where it's still fisted in her shirt. 

"I can't leave," Adrien says quietly. "And I can't call the police."

"I know," Marinette says, which clearly surprises him.

"Really? I was expecting you to fight me on that one. Maybe even try to contact the police yourself."

"That's not my place, and it's not my decision. I would never want to make things worse for you, or let your dad know that someone else has figured out what's happening. I couldn't bear it if he tried to send you away or if he escalated." Her voice quivers in spite of her best efforts at trying to stay calm. "I know you don't want the extra attention because it will make it harder for you to be Chat Noir."

Adrien shakes his head. "I need to be Chat. I _need_ it. I couldn't handle it if I wasn't. If I lost you and Plagg..." He trails off, exhaling unevenly. "But even if I wasn't Chat, I'm not sure it would be worth it to call the police, Marinette. You know how much power Gabriel Agreste has in the community. He's close friends with the mayor and has a lot of other friends in high places. I just don't think it would make much of a difference. It would just make everything a lot worse."

"I know," she says again. She's been over this in her head a thousand times already. "So that's why I think, for the short term, you should just spend as much time at my house as you can."

"You... what?" Adrien blinks at her.

"You heard me. You can come home with me for lunch every day. You can come for suppers when you're free. You can even spend the night here, if you think your father wouldn't notice you were gone."

Adrien's beginning to look interested. "I don't think he would. I usually lock my door at night anyway. I started doing that a few months ago, after -" He stops abruptly.

"After?" she coaxes gently, when it becomes clear he's not intending to continue.

"He came in one night. I'd had a nightmare about losing you and he said my yelling woke him up," Adrien says stiffly.

Marinette's not sure which part of that to ask about first. Finally, she asks, "What happened?"

He avoids her gaze. "Do you remember that patrol where I showed up and you got so upset you cried?"

Her throat goes painfully dry. Of course she remembers that. Chat showing up with a black eye and cut on his cheek was branded into her memory. "Oh, Kitty."

A tiny smile flickers across his face. "I like the thought of staying with you at night," he confesses. "It would be nice to wake up and know you're okay."

"I have to admit, my motive isn't exactly entirely pure on that one," Marinette admits. "I have loads of nightmares about you dying in my arms." She lifts her hand off his shoulder, cupping his cheek instead. Her thumb traces the puffy skin beneath his eye, remembering how swollen and bruised it was that night. She doesn't tell him that she's also had plenty of nightmares about Chat being hit and kicked by a big man. If the only way to make sure that's not happening is by having Adrien spend the night in her arms instead, Marinette will make it happen.

"Won't your parents notice, though?" he asks.

"You can sleep on the side by the wall. I'll sleep closer to the door," she says. "Plus, ever since I became Ladybug, I've been trying to get them to give me more privacy." She smiles mischeviously. "I’ve even been sleeping naked lately to really discourage them from checking on me at night before they go to bed."

Adrien turns pink. "You, uh, want us to share the bed?" he squeaks. "I... I assume you'll be... uh, wearing clothing?"

"What? Oh my god, yes!" Marinette blushes so hard her face feels like it's burning. 

"R-right. Cool. Cool, cool, cool." Adrien looks away, face still pink. 

They haven't even shared a bed yet and Marinette's already screwed it up. She stares silently at the side of his head, so mortified that she can't think of a single word to say. Her mind is completely blank. She can't believe that she just insinuated that she wanted Adrien to sleep in the same bed with her while she was naked. Because it's not like she maybe doesn't want that someday, but they're not even dating yet! They haven't even kissed yet! _They haven't even talked about that yet_!

The awkward silence drags on, until Tikki, displaying the kind of divine mercy that Marinette loves her for, pokes her head out of her cocoon and says, "Your maman called you about lunch almost ten minutes ago, Marinette. If you don't go down soon, she'll be back."

"Yes! Lunch! Absolutely!" Marinette shrills, a little too loud, but she can't even bring herself to be embarrassed about that at the moment. She takes her hands off of Adrien and hastily rolls off the chaise, landing on her feet. When she straightens up and turns around, she finds that Adrien is already standing. His face is still a little red, but he's looking at her so she considers that a win.

Tikki leaves her cocoon and floats over to Adrien, peering at him curiously. "Hello, Adrien! It's nice to finally officially meet you. I'm Tikki."

"Hi Tikki," Adrien says, holding out his index finger. Tikki grasps it with both her paws and giggles as they shake; Marinette can't keep herself from smiling. This is one of the things that she loves so much about Adrien: his infinite kindness.

"And I'm Plagg," says a voice in Marinette's ear, right before a light weight settles atop her head. 

"Plagg!" Adrien and Tikki chorus.

"What? Her hair smells nice!" Plagg says.

"You don't just lay down in people's hair without asking," Adrien says, clearly exasperated.

"It's fine," Marinette says, waving him off. Tikki doesn't usually hide in her hair, preferring to stay in Marinette's purse, pockets or, in the cooler months, beneath Marinette's sweaters, which she wears deliberately baggy. Plagg, on the other hand, burrows down like he's attempting to hide. When Marinette turns to walk towards the door, all she can see in the mirror are two big green eyes peering out from her hair. He blends in well, she'll give him that much.

Adrien follows her downstairs, Tikki riding on his shoulder, and into the kitchen. Marinette finds a platter of sandwiches made with freshly baked bread and some sliced up fruit and cheese waiting for them. She pours them both some water and then takes a seat, motioning for Adrien to sit down as well. She serves him first, because she knows he'll be reluctant to serve himself, and hands Tikki a fat strawberry, which her kwami takes with a big grin. Then she snags a piece of cheddar cheese and holds it up near her head. Tiny paws grab it away.

"Plagg, really? In her hair?" Adrien says, making a face.

"I have to wash it anyway," Marinette says before Plagg can respond, and feels Plagg give a little wiggle of pleasure in response. It's not a lie, but she also wants to get on Plagg's good side as quickly as possible. They're the only two people in Adrien's corner right now and they have to get along well. 

"You're going to spoil him," Adrien mutters, right before he picks up a piece of banana and hands it to Tikki. He catches Marinette's pointed look and frowns, picking up his glass and taking a long drink.

"Let's just say there's a reason you two are our favorite Ladybug and Chat Noir," Plagg pipes up. Marinette smiles, pleased, and passes him another piece of cheese.

They eat their lunch mostly in silence, though she's deeply relieved that the awkwardness from before seems to have passed. She supposes that by now, Adrien is used to her big mouth saying things that are slightly inappropriate. Either way, she's glad that she has the food to focus on. She devours two sandwiches and an apple, letting Plagg have most of her cheese. It seems that the kwami has just as big of an appetite as Tikki, who is steadily munching her way through most of Adrien's fruit. 

When they're finished, they head back upstairs to Marinette's room and spend the afternoon hashing out the rest of their first design. It takes dozens and dozens of sketches, but finally Marinette thinks they're getting somewhere. They're in the middle of a conversation about whether the gown would be better with sleeves or without when Adrien's phone chimes. He quiets, his face falling into a frown, as he pulls out his phone to check it. She knows without him ever saying a word that he's being summoned back home, and her heart sinks. She doesn't want him to go.

"I have to go," Adrien says with a sigh, confirming her suspicion. "Nathalie scheduled a photography lesson for me right before dinner."

"Photography?" Marinette inquires. "You mentioned that earlier, but you never talked much about it."

He shrugs. "It's another attempt of my father's to interest me in anything other than design," he says. "When he figured out I was never going to be a model, he started making me take photography classes. That's why I still have to attend shoots sometimes. He wants me to see everything and gain first-hand experience."

"I didn't know you still had to go to shoots. That actually sounds interesting."

He shoots her a sly smile. "It is. My father has no idea that everything I learn is going to help me and you with our own shoots someday."

Marinette likes the sound of that. "Do you like photography?"

"It's okay. It doesn't excite me the way that design does, but I like the idea of being able to capture a memory," Adrien says thoughtfully. "But it's not as easy as it seems. There's a lot that goes into taking the perfect picture. Especially when you're dealing with models."

"Maybe someday you can take my picture," Marinette says shyly.

This time, Adrien smirks. "Will you be wearing clothing?"

" _Adrien_!" Marinette shrieks.

He bursts into laughter and dodges the two sketchbooks she hurtles at him. "I'm joking!"

"You're incorrigible," Marinette huffs, pressing her hands against her burning cheeks. That Chat Noir side of him is going to be the death of her.

"You love it," Adrien says cheekily, daring to come close enough to extract Plagg from her hair. Plagg whines a lot and tries to wiggle away from Adrien's hands; Adrien is evidently used to this, because in no time he's sliding his sleepy kwami into the pocket of his shirt. Marinette smoothes her hands over her hair, wondering how many cheese crumbs are now hiding amongst the strands.

"I'll see you tonight?" she asks.

"See you tonight," Adrien says, something soft crossing his face. "Thank you, My Lady."

"No problem," Marinette says. She watches as he goes and sighs to herself. If only Adrien knew just how much of a problem it really isn't. They're going to have to have that talk soon. She's pretty sure they're on the same page since he asked her out on a date (a date! Chat asked her out on an actual date!) but at the same time she needs to know for sure, just for the sake of her own sanity.

"That went well," Tikki says.

"Yeah, unless you count my big mouth," Marinette mutters.

Tikki giggles. "It just means you can be yourself around him, Marinette. That's not a bad thing. Chat knows you. He likes you."

"You think so? He did ask me out on a date. And he seemed happy at the idea of spending the night with me." Marinette smiles to herself. She thought that Adrien would be on board with that idea. She and Chat have slept together before, but only a handful of times and never in a bed. Usually either on a patrol when they're exhausted, or when an akuma attack goes on for too long and they both need to recharge. The idea of sleeping beside him in a bed is both exciting and a little anxiety-inducing. What if she drools in her sleep? What if she farts?

"Don't over-think this," Tikki says quickly, flying up in front of Marinette's face. "You should go shower. Now."

"Good idea," Marinette says weakly, and goes to do just that. By the time she gets out of the shower, it's time for dinner. She eats quickly and then heads down to help in the bakery so that her maman can get away to eat something.


	9. Chapter 9

The bakery closes at 9pm, just like it always does. Marinette helps do the closing activities and then heads up to her room. She changes into her pajamas and sits down to wrestle through the rest of her homework. When the gentle knock comes upon her window, she's deeply relieved and closes her physics book with pleasure. She spins around in her chair and beckons to Chat. It feels weird to watch him pry open the window and slip inside, landing on her bed. How many times has she imagined this exact scenario? 

Yet she never really thought it would happen.

"Hi," Chat says awkwardly.

"Hi," Marinette says. "Are you hungry? Do you want something to eat before we sleep?"

"Nah, I had dinner. Plagg, claws in." Green light illuminates the room. When it fades away, Adrien is sitting on her bed in a pair of green pajamas. 

"Okay. Bedtime it is, then." Marinette gets up and locks her door, then switches the lights off. By moonlight, she moves across the room and climbs the ladder. Her pulse quickens as she slides first one knee and then the other onto her bed, putting her into close proximity with Adrien. In the silvery light, his eyes are so beautiful. She always wondered if the transformation changed his eye color, and is relieved to find that it doesn't. That shade of green is unique to Adrien, it seems.

"Marinette?" he says softly.

"Yes?" 

"Did you... did you mean it when you said you'd go out on a date with me?"

She turns to him in surprise. "What? Yes, of course I did."

"Oh." Adrien's quiet for a few seconds, rubbing at the back of his neck.

Marinette goes cold. "Do you not want to go anymore?"

"What? No! Of course I do!"

"Then..." Marinette frowns at him.

"I just... I wasn't sure. You never seemed that interested in Chat. I flirted with you all the time and you never did anything but push me away." Adrien shrugs, staring down at his lap. "Is it because of who I am?"

"Adrien." Marinette wants to bang her head against the wall. Instead, she scoots over to him and takes his hand. " _Mon minou_ , listen to me. I've... I've liked you for a long time now."

"What?!" Adrien gasps, staring at her.

Marinette flushes, shyly looking away. "It's true. How could I not fall for a cute guy who flatters me and fights by my side and who is always there for me? I was just never sure if _you_ were serious. Your flirting was so over the top. I couldn't tell if you meant it or if you were just playing around."

Adrien gapes at her. "Of course I meant it! Do you think I just go around flirting with everyone?"

"Well, not everyone," Marinette hedges. "Just pretty girls."

"I'm so offended I'm not even sure what to say to that," Adrien says, still staring at her.

"Well, you flirt like a guy from an old movie," Marinette says crossly. "Or someone from an anime." She catches the look on his face, realizes what it means, and groans. "Oh my god. You totally learned how to flirt from anime."

Adrien pouts. "How else was I supposed to learn? I've never dated anyone else. I barely _spoke_ to anyone else when I was growing up. Who was I going to learn to flirt with, Chloé?" They both grimace at the thought, and Marinette shakes her head.

"Okay, we're going to bed and I'm going to pretend you never said that because I don't need those thoughts in my head right before I sleep," she says. "Look, I've never been flirted with before. And being Ladybug was so new, and so much responsibility. It was hard to focus on anything besides that. By the time I was at the point where I could even start to think about anything else, things were already settled between us. You flirted, I flirted back, nothing serious ever happened. I didn't know how to ask you about it. I didn't want to risk ruining our partnership."

"Did I ruin it?" Adrien asks, sounding horrified. "By asking you out?"

"No! God, no. I was really happy when you asked me out. It made me realize how stupid I was being. You and me, we're partners until the end. Nothing could ever change that, not even a silly crush." She holds her fist out.

Adrien looks at her for a moment, then smiles. He gently taps his fist against hers. "I'm glad you think that way, Princess."

The nickname gives her pause. "Princess?"

"You said I couldn't call you My Lady anymore. Ergo, Princess." He pulls his fist away and moves to lay down.

"Why Princess?"

"It suits you," Adrien says simply. "You're like a Disney Princess. At first glance, you're a beautiful, unassuming girl. But in reality, you're a beautiful girl who kicks ass and takes names."

He called her beautiful. That's the only thing Marinette's brain is capable of focusing on. She swallows hard. "Uh... sure. Yeah. Okay."

"And by the way, it wasn't a silly crush. Not for me," Adrien whispers.

Marinette meets his gaze. "Not for me either." She can't say everything else just yet: she can't say that a day without Chat always seemed pointless, or that she's dreamed of building and sharing a home with him for months now, or that sometimes she has to fist her hands to keep from yanking him into a kiss. But she hopes that something of what she feels shows in her face. 

It must, because Adrien's cheeks color and he looks a bit overwhelmed but he doesn't look away. "That's good."

"Very good," she says, and shifts into position beside him, pulling the covers up over them. She feels a little shaky and lightheaded, but in a good way. Chat, her precious partner, likes her just as much as she likes him. He wants to date her. This is the best thing that's ever happened to her.

"I'm laying on something," Adrien says, and then squirms around until he can pull her Chat Noir doll out from under his pillow. He stares at it silently, then looks at her askance.

"I told you I liked you," Marinette mumbles, embarrassed, and grabs it. "Chat Noir guards my sleep and helps to keep nightmares away."

Adrien's quiet for a moment before he shyly says, "Do you happen to have a Ladybug doll? For when I can't be here with you?"

"It's on my desk. I'll give it to you in the morning," Marinette promises, moving her Chat Noir doll to sit on her side of the bed, up beside her pillow. She won't need to cuddle it tonight with the real thing here, but she wants to keep it close anyway. And she can't help a silly smile at the thought that Adrien wants a Ladybug doll for the same reason.

"Thanks."

There's silence for a few minutes while they both get comfortable. Finally, they end up on their sides facing each other. Marinette reaches out her hand and Adrien takes it, intertwining their fingers. Their faces are so close that she can feel his breath on her cheek, and she belatedly hopes that her own breath doesn't smell too bad. Then again, she and Adrien have seen each other in way worse situations than this. That akuma who was obsessed with garbage comes to mind.

"Adrien?" she whispers.

"Yeah?"

"I never once cared about who you were behind the mask. Your civilian name never mattered to me. It still doesn't."

He moves, leaning forward to kiss the back of her hand. "The same goes for me," he breathes, and Marinette feels a weight come off her shoulders.

She doesn't really remember falling asleep; one moment she's staring into her partner's green eyes and the next, early morning sunlight is filtering in through the window and Adrien is sitting up beside her. He shushes her when she mumbles a query and says something about needing to get ready for school. Then he kisses her on the forehead, transforms, and escapes out the window. Marinette's asleep again before he even clears the balcony, and she stays that way until Tikki's yanking on her hair and her maman's shouts wake her up fully.

What follows is a mad race to get ready, grab something quick for breakfast, and make a dash for school. But she's not in such a rush that she forgets to grab two extra pastries. She tucks them carefully into her bag and says a quick goodbye to her parents, running out the door. The school bell is ringing as she sprints across the street. Her backpack thumps painfully against her spine as she races across the yard, up the steps, into the building, and down the hall to her classroom. Madame Bustier isn't even in the classroom yet when she gets there, so Marinette considers it a success. 

"You made it!" Alya says, laughing at her.

"I made it," Marinette says, panting. A private thrill runs through her when she catches Adrien's eye, and she suddenly wishes she'd been more awake when he left that morning. She finds herself wondering if he needs to show a face at the breakfast table, or if he can start stashing clothing in her room. Then she could wake up beside him, and they could walk to school together.

"Good morning, Marinette," Adrien says.

"Good morning," Marinette says, pausing in front of him to dig out the two pastries. "Here."

His eyes light up. "Wow, thanks!"

"Why does Adrien get pastries?" Alya demands. "Why don't I get pastries?"

"Be my partner on a design project, and I'll feed you," Marinette says, dropping into her seat. Alya pouts and Marinette rolls her eyes at her friend's dramatics, though she makes a mental note to bring a full box of pastries tomorrow. 

“How’s your project coming?” Nino asks, turning around to look at her. Adrien turns too, comfortably sitting sideways on the bench as he bites into his first pastry. She’s pleased to note that he looks as well-rested as she feels.

“It’s going well, I think,” Marinette says thoughtfully. “We’ve almost figured out our first design. It just needs a little bit more work.”

“I bet it’s gonna look awesome,” Alya says enthusiastically. “And, you know, if you need a model…” She flips her hair over her shoulder meaningfully.

Marinette smiles. “Sorry, Alya, but I doubt that we’re going to need a model. We’re supposed to create the outfits and then bring them to Petit Fashions for judging. I’m pretty sure they’re just going to put the designs on mannequins.”

Alya droops. “No fashion show?”

“No fashion show,” Marinette says, rolling her eyes again. She knows exactly what Alya is thinking about. If only her friend knew what happened last night! She glances at Adrien, but he’s too busy placating Alya with the thought that Petit Fashions may actually have people model the top five or ten designs. Unfortunately, Petit Fashions would have their own models and wouldn’t be asking for volunteers.

“We’ll make you something to model afterwards, we promise,” Adrien says. “Right, Marinette?”

“Right, _Mon chou_ ,” Marinette murmurs, and is treated to the sound of Alya choking, Nino’s eyes going wide, and Adrien turning pink right in the middle of class. All three of them gape at her, speechless. She smiles back, incredibly pleased with herself.

“Alright class, let’s begin,” Madame Bustier says, sweeping into the room.

“What the hell?” Alya hisses beneath the sound of several students pulling their books out of their bags.

“Alya please, I have to focus on class,” Marinette says, barely holding in a laugh at Alya’s resulting glare. She pretends not to notice and faces forward, looking at the board. She’s going to be interrogated at lunch, but it’s well worth it. Besides, she has a pretty easy answer for how it happened. Everyone knows she and Adrien have been spending plenty of time together working on the project. 

Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately depending on how you look at it, they never make it to lunch. Sometime mid-morning, Marinette has her head bowed over her English book and is struggling to figure out past tenses when the far-away sound of multiple people screaming catches her attention. In her peripheral vision she sees Adrien twitch and then his head goes up, which means that the screaming is not in her imagination.

“There’s an akuma at the Seine!” Alya squeals a few seconds later.

“May I go to the bathroom?” Marinette says. It’s not until she hears a weird echo that she realizes Adrien has spoken at almost exactly the same time.

“Yes,” Madame Bustier says to them, before frowning at Alya. “I’ve told you before, cutting class to film akuma attacks is not acceptable behaviour, Alya. While you’re at school you’re my responsibility. What would I tell your parents if I let you leave and you got hurt? What if –”

Madame Bustier’s lecture fades away as Adrien and Marinete rush out of the classroom. In silent agreement, they start running down the hall towards the front doors. Marinette’s heart is thumping with adrenaline as they burst outside. The schoolyard is empty, but so is the street beyond. The eerie quiet makes the hair stand up on the back of her neck as she realizes that even the screaming has died out.

“Come on,” Adrien says, grabbing her hand. They run down the steps and across the schoolyard. There are no cars or people visible on the street, but they still head for an alley.

“Tikki, spots on!”

“Plagg, claws out!”


	10. Chapter 10

Ladybug and Chat Noir take to the rooftops, heading for the Seine. As they get closer, Ladybug realizes that there’s a large group of people lined up on either side of the Seine. All of them are dressed identically in shiny black boots, black pants, white shirts, and bright purple jackets. Every single one wears a vacant expression and is staring into the Seine like it’s fascinating.

“Ugh, I hate mind control,” Chat says, obviously coming to the same conclusion that she has.

“Right? It’s so creepy,” she says. “Do you see the akuma?”

“I’m right here.”

Both of them jump and Chat lets out a startled mewl that would be hilarious under any other circumstances. Ladybug spins around to see a man standing behind them. He’s wearing an outfit similar to the people behind them, but he’s also wearing a top hat and a lot of jewelry, all of which have big, flat pendants hanging from them. His skin is purple and his hair is green, and when he smiles it’s with a mouth full of purple teeth.

“Ladybug and Chat Noir, how fortuitous that you’ve come to me,” he says. “I don’t suppose you want to save me the effort and just give me your miraculouses?”

“I wouldn’t give my miraculous to you for anything. Not until you get a better fashion sense,” Chat says, reaching for his baton.

The akuma narrows its eyes, the smiles again. “That’s fine. I don’t need you to _want_ to give me your miraculouses. I’ll hypnotize you into being my slaves, and then you’ll be all too happy to give them to me.”

Hypnotism? Ladybug wracks her brain, trying to remember what she knows about hypnotism, but the answer is not much. She grabs her yoyo, eyeing the akuma and waiting for it to make the first move. She’s not disappointed. With rapid movement, the akuma suddenly chucks two bracelets at them. Ladybug dodges, but the bracelet _follows_ her like it’s a homing device and she’s got a target on her back. She ducks and weaves away from it, finally swinging her yoyo up and around to slam against it. The bracelet shatters.

Chat takes a swing at the bracelet following him with his baton, but his aim is a bit off and the bracelet is sent spinning off course. They both watch in horror as it ricochets off a building and hits a woman peering out a window. The woman screams, but the sound is abruptly cut off as, in a puff of grey smoke, she’s transformed into a costume identical to what the other victims were wearing. Wearing the same vacant expression, the woman jumps out the window and floats harmlessly to the ground.

“Don’t let the jewelry touch you,” Ladybug yells to her partner. She scans the akuma, trying to figure out what its object is. But it’s hard to see anything beneath all of the jewelry it’s wearing. The necklaces, bracelets, arm bands and belts shine in the sun, throwing off light. It makes her eyes ache to look directly at him. She blinks and looks away, trying to get the spots out of her eyes.

“Ladybug!” Chat screams.

The next thing Ladybug knows, she’s laying flat on her back and Chat’s beaten-up face is filling her vision. She blinks at him, thoroughly bewildered. Chat’s tense expression melts into one of relief, and he reaches out a hand to gently haul her to her feet. She staggers a little, catching her balance, and is about to ask him what happened when Chat points overhead.

“Quick! Purify it!”

She follows his gaze and spots the purple butterfly overhead, flapping its little wings as fast as it can. Ladybug doesn’t hesitate, grabbing her yoyo and running after it. She leaps into the air, lands on top of a lamp post, and jumps again. That brings her in close enough proximity to the akuma for her to throw her yoyo out.

“I free you from evil!” she shouts, capturing the butterfly. She lands on the ground and runs a finger across her yoyo to let it open. “Bye bye, little butterfly.” 

Then, seeing as she didn’t use her Lucky Charm this time, she throws her yoyo overhead with a cry of, “Miraculous Ladybug!”

The red light washes over Paris, repairing the damage that’s been done. Ladybug catches a glimse of roads and buildings being restored befoe Chat, looking much better than he did when she first saw him, walks over. He’s limping slightly, but then the miraculous cure wouldn’t have fixed his sprained ankle. She turns fully towards him, filled with fear and trepidation because she _can’t remember anything_.

“Chat, what happened?” she asks, voice shaking slightly. “What did I do?”

“Not here, My Lady,” he says softly. “Come with me.” He sets his left hand on her shoulder and gently pulls her closer, dropping his arm to her waist. He uses his baton to propel them into the air with other, vaulting them to the nearest rooftop.

They only traverse a couple of rooftops before Ladybug can’t take it anymore. “Chat, tell me!”

“You got hit by a necklace that transformed you into one of his henchmen,” Chat says bluntly. “He was using you to try and get my miraculous.”

Her whole body goes cold. “What did I do?” she whispers again. “Did I hurt you?”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“Oh god. That means I did.” She thinks back to her brief glimpse of him, the bruising on his face, his black eyes, the cut on his lip, and wants to throw up. 

“You were under his control,” Chat says, reaching out to her. But she jerks away, wrapping her arms around herself. 

“I hurt you! I helped Hawkmoth,” Ladybug says, horrified. She feels… she feels so _violated_. And she can’t remember a single thing about it. The past however many hours the battle lasted are a blank. It’s like one moment she was fighting the akuma and then she blinked and Chat was helping her up. 

“I’m a superhero. I get hurt in battle. It’s what we do,” Chat tells her, keeping his distance now. “I know how you fight by now, Ladybug. We’re pretty evenly matched. You know that. Actually, you were pretty clumsy when you were under his control. Even moreso than normal. All brute strength with no thought behind it.” He puts a claw on his chin, tapping thoughtfully. “It must’ve been the akuma’s fault.”

“How can you stand there and act like it’s okay?” Ladybug demands. 

Chat looks at her seriously. “Because it’s happened to me before, remember? I’ve been forced to fight against you before. I know exactly how you feel. It’s terrifying to know that you were forced to do something and that you can’t even remember it happening.”

“You’re right, I don’t remember anything.” Her eyes are filling up with tears. Chat turns towards her and opens his arms, letting her come to him. Ladybug is moving before she registers it, closing the distance beween them and wrapping her arms around his neck. His own arms come around her waist, embracing her tightly.

“I know. I know, it’s awful,” he murmurs, resting his cheek on top of her head. 

“Please tell me everything,” Ladybug begs in a whisper. Alya wasn’t there, so she can’t even check out the Ladyblog to see what she did. She’s not sure if that’s a curse or a blessing. On the one hand, she’ll have to rely on Chat to tell her the truth and not sugarcoat anything to spare her feelings. On the other hand, Ladybug isn’t sure she wants to see herself fighting against Chat.

“Of course. But I’m about to transform back. Maybe we should go somewhere a little more private?” he suggests. “My house isn’t too far away.”

“Okay, yeah, sure,” Ladybug mumbles. She hates to let go of him, but a quick check of the ring on his finger proves that he only has a couple minutes to go. She follows him across the rooftops, and only realizes that he’s heading for what can only be described as a mansion, not a house, when Chat lands on the frame of an open window on the second floor. He disappears inside. Ladybug hesitates only slightly before she follows, easily making the small leap across the fence surrounding the mansion to land on the frame.

A green light sweeps through the room as Chat detransforms, leaving Adrien and Plagg behind. Plagg yawns widely and flies over to Adrien’s desk to pick up the huge wheel of Camembert sitting there. Ladybug slowly puts her feet down, taking in Adrien’s massive room. It’s easily three times the size of hers, with an enormous bed, a rock climbing wall, a couch with a large television, the aforementioned DDR game, a basketball hoop, and shelves upon shelves of books.

“I know,” Adrien says, looking around. “It’s ridiculous, isn’t it?”

She just looks at him, biting her lip. The room screams of overcompensating. It’s obvious that Gabriel Agreste is trying to make up for what he does to his son. But she can’t even think about that right now. She straightens up slowly and takes a couple of steps into the room. Her transformation comes undone without her needing to say the words, and then Tikki is in front of her giving her a worried look.

“Marinette, are you okay?” Tikki asks softly.

“No. No, I’m not. I hurt Chat and that’s the last thing I ever wanted to do. He gets hurt enough,” Marinette says, her voice breaking. 

“Oh, Princess. No. Come here.” Adrien hurries over, pulling her into another hug. “Listen. It was nothing I couldn’t handle, okay? I’m not just saying that. It was hard, and I couldn’t stand the thought of fighting you, so you probably got in a few more shots than you should’ve –”

“Tell me you weren’t going out of your way to avoid fighting me,” Marinette says.

Adrien rubs her back. “Okay, I won’t tell you,” he says, which is as good as a yes. 

“Adrien! I would have been fine!”

“Don’t argue with my methods,” Adrien says. “Do you still want to hear everything?”

“Yes,” she says firmly. She’ll drive herself crazy if she doesn’t know. She suddenly feels a flicker of guilt over not having given a second thought to how Chat must’ve felt after he was mind-controlled. He always seemed okay afterwards, but she wonders if it bothered him more than he lets on. 

They sit down on Adrien’s bed and cuddle while he tells her everything. After Ladybug fell under the akuma’s control, she was Chat’s primary enemy. The akuma preferred to hang back and let Ladybug do the work for him, which resulted in Chat and Ladybug fighting twice. The first time Chat escaped to think things over and figure out how he was gong to win; the second resulted in Chat using his Cataclysm to temporarily trap Ladybug and the akuma and then grab the akumatized object. 

The way he lays it out makes it all sound so simple. But Marinette can’t help wincing at the description of every kick and every punch. She’s a fairly skilled fighter after close to two years of combat, and she knows how strong she can be. The only thing she can be grateful for is that the akuma’s control took away her personality and, from the sound of it, left a blank fighting machine behind. Like a robot, she thinks, and shivers.

Adrien hugs her tighter, falling quiet. Marinette curls into him, cursing herself for not being fast enough or smart enough to get out of the way of that necklace. Thank god for the miraculous cure. Judging by Adrien’s description, both he and Paris would be pretty beat up if Marinette weren’t able to fix everything. She doesn’t know if she could live with herself if she had to look at his face every day and know that she was the one who put the injuries there. 

“I hate Hawkmoth,” Adrien says suddenly. “I hate him for doing this to you.”

“To us. To all of Paris,” Marinette says, thinking of the people who have been turned into akumas. What she’s feeling now must be only a fraction of what they go through afterwards. After all, she wasn’t actually the one whose emotions attracted Hawkmoth in the first place.

“I hate him,” Adrien says again. “I just wish he would disappear.”

“I know. So do I.” She twists around so that she can hug Adrien. “We’ll find him soon, _Chaton_. And when we do, we’ll take the Butterfly Miraculous away so that Hawkmoth can never hurt anyone else.”

“I can’t wait for that day,” Adrien whispers.

Marinette squeezes her eyes shut. “Me either. I’m sorry that I hurt you.”

“Marinette –”

“I know, I didn’t have a say in what I was doing. But I’m still sorry.” She pulls back so that she can look at him. “And I’m also sorry that I never really thought about what it must’ve been like for you when you got caught by mind control akumas.”

“It sucked, but it didn’t bother me as much as it bothers you,” Adrien says. “I know you’ll always be there to put the world back to the way it’s supposed to be. I hate myself for falling under their influence more than anything. No matter how many times Plagg tells me that it wasn’t my fault, or points out that I was only doing it to save you, it doesn’t change how I feel. I wish I could’ve saved you this time.”

“No,” Marinette says sternly. “Don’t apologize for that. It’s not your responsibility to save me, Adrien. We’re a team. If it’s not my fault that I hurt you, it’s not your fault that I got mind controlled in the first place.” She frowns at him, and is surprised when Adrien gives her a slight smile.

“What a pair we are,” he says, shaking his head.

Marinette can’t bring herself to smile yet, but she feels slightly less horrible than she did when she first came out of it. The shock is wearing off. But she really, _really_ hopes that it’s a long time before they face another akuma that’s capable of mind control. She doesn’t know if she’ll be able to stop herself from freezing up otherwise. Just the thought of having it happen a second time makes her shudder.


	11. Chapter 11

“In retrospect, I’m just glad Alya wasn’t there to film it. I don’t – oh my god. We forgot about school!” Marinette squeaks suddenly. “What time is it?”

“It’s after five,” Adrien says, seemingly not bothered. “The battle took at least three or four hours. There was no way we were going to make it back in time.”

“Oh god,” Marinette says with a groan. Her attendance record is already crap, and every missed day is just another further slight. At this rate, there’s going to be another letter sent home from school. She really hates how disappointed her parents look whenever they get one of those. Especially because it’s not like Marinette can come right out and tell them why she misses so much. 

She fishes out her phone and looks at it. She’s got a bunch of texts from Alya demanding to know where she and Adrien are, ranging from curious to worried to suspicious. There’s also a missed call from her maman and two texts from her papa. Both of them are asking where she is. Marinette usually lets them know if she has plans after school. She immediately calls her maman.

“Hello? Marinette?” Maman says, sounding a little worried.

“Hi Maman. I’m sorry. Adrien and I were working and we lost track of time,” Marinette says.

Maman sighs. “I thought it must’ve been something like that, but your papa and I were worried. We thought you might’ve gotten caught up in that awful akuma attack.”

Marinette winces, and the arms wrapped around her waist squeeze a little tighter. “Well, we were trapped at Adrien’s house because of it,” she improvises quickly. “The roads around his house were blocked until Ladybug and Chat Noir took care of the akuma. I should’ve called you to let you know, I’m sorry.”

“Next time make sure that you do,” Maman says sternly. “Will you be home for supper?”

“I think Adrien and I are going to grab something,” Marinette says, glancing at her partner. From the size of the smile on his face, he’s on board with that idea. “I should be home within a couple of hours.”

“Okay. Make sure you call if you’re going to be late.”

“I will, Maman. Bye.”

She hangs up and sighs, looking at her phone. There’s no ignoring the texts from Alya. Some of them make Marinette blush and hope that Adrien can’t see the screen of her phone – Alya has a dirty mind and an even dirtier imagination sometimes. She quickly texts her friend back, making up an excuse that Adrien started to feel sick and Marinette helped him home. No doubt Alya will still interrogate her later, but that should hold her for now.

“Do you really want to go out for dinner?” Adrien asks.

“Could we? I know our first date is supposed to be in a couple days, but…”

“I don’t mind if our anniversary is our second date,” Adrien says softly.

“Then yes,” Marinette says. “Let’s go be normal teenagers for a little while.”

He grins at that. “Then you need to get off me, My Lady.”

Oops. Blushing, Marinette quickly scrambles off of him and goes to collect their slumbering kwamis from Plagg’s nest. By the time she tucks them securely into her purse, Adrien is ready to go. Not wanting to risk getting caught by Adrien’s father or his father’s assistant, Adrien shows her how to climb out his window. It’s definitely not the safest way to go about it, particularly for a clumsy girl like Marinette, but she somehow manages to make it down to the ground without landing on her head. She considers that a win.

Adrien drops down beside her a moment later and takes her hand, leading her over to the gates. It’s entirely possible that a security camera records them leaving together, but Adrien doesn’t seem bothered so Marinette tries not to worry about it. It helps that Adrien visibly relaxes the moment they’re outside on the street. She didn’t even realize how tense he was until that moment.

He clearly doesn’t like being at his house, yet he was still willing to take her there when she was upset and needed a place to regroup. Marinette’s heart warms, and she tugs gently on Adrien’s hand. When he looks over at her, she pauses and moves closer to him. Before she can lose her nerve, she leans up and presses a quick kiss to his cheek. His eyes open wide.

“Thanks,” Marinette says softly. “You always know exactly how to calm me down.”

“I… I don’t say anything special,” Adrien says, flushing. 

“Yes, you do,” Marinette says, but she doesn’t offer anything more than that. Because it’s not just about what Adrien says, though that is a huge part of it: it’s also what he _does_. It’s the way he puts her comfort and safety first. It’s the way he hugs her. It’s the way he so clearly cares. 

He just shakes his head. “What do you want to do for supper?”

“I’m starving after the attack,” Marinette confesses, patting her midsection. She may not remember getting a big physical work-out, but her body sure does. Transforming doesn’t just leave a kwami hungry: she feels like she could easily plow through a whole grocery store.

“I know a great chinese buffet,” Adrien volunteers. 

“Lead on.”

The food at the buffet really is good, and best of all it’s all-you-can-eat. Marinette eats several plates, sneaking some of the tastier bits into her purse for Tikki and Plagg to sample. Adrien matches her plate for plate. At one point she catches a couple of waiters staring at them in clear bewilderment, but Marinette doesn’t care. She eats until she’s full – something of a novelty these days, when she often has to be careful of how much she eats around her curious parents – and then sits back with a soft groan.

“That was delicious,” she says with a contented sigh. “Ugh, there better not be an akuma attack tonight. I don’t think I can move, much less swing over rooftops.”

Adrien chuckles as he uses his chopsticks to scrape up the last of his noodles. “It’s pretty rare for Hawkmoth to do two akumas in one day. Especially when the battles go on for as long as the one today did. He’s probably just as tired as we are.”

“Now that you mention it…” Marinette muffles a yawn with her hand. “I’m exhausted.”

“You and me both, though I did have a really good sleep last night.” He gives her a shy smile.

“I slept really well too,” Marinette says, blushing a little. “Are you… coming over again tonight?”

“Not even an akuma could keep me away, Princess.” Adrien cocks his head as he speaks. “By the way. _Mon chou_?”

“It seemed fitting.”

“You almost gave Alya a heart attack. I take it we’re not hiding things, then?”

Marinette bites her lip, then says guiltily, “Sorry, I guess we never talked about that. I just assumed –”

“No, it’s fine! I want everyone to know that you’re my partner,” Adrien says quickly, taking her hand. “It took me by surprise, that’s all.”

“I should’ve warned you. It just… slipped out.”

Adrien smiles at her, lifting her hand and kissing the back of it, an action that sends warm butterflies through Marinette’s stomach every time he does it – and has done it, from day one. The feeling is only intensified now that she can see his whole face. The genuine affection shining from his eyes, unencumbered by the mask, makes her heart feel as though it’s full to bursting. 

“It’s really fine, My Lady. I don’t mind. I’m proud to have people know. I just wasn’t sure if you would be okay with it. We did just meet each other, as far as everyone else knows.”

She considers that for a few seconds, then says, “It probably would’ve been smarter to keep the fact that we’re dating under wraps for a little while, but I don’t know how we would’ve done that. Now that I know you’re Chat, I can’t _not_ treat you the way I always do. And as we know from the Ladyblog, the way we always act looks an awful lot like dating.”

“You do touch me a lot,” he says with a straight face.

“Excuse me, who just took whose hand and kissed it?!”

“Not to mention all those nicknames,” Adrien continues, as though she hadn’t spoken.

Marinette actually sputters. “You don’t have a leg to stand on when it comes to nicknames, Monsieur Agreste!”

He cracks and grins, green eyes twinkling. “You’re completely right. We flirt too much for it to be believable.”

“I don’t know how much flirting you’re going to be getting from now on,” Marinette says, narrowing her eyes at him, but she’s feeling too happy to be truly annoyed. Not when Adrien is smiling like there’s nothing wrong in the world, and there are no akumas, and both of them are safe.

“Aw, don’t be mad at me,” Adrien says, pursing his lips and giving her the kitty eyes. He’s fantastic at it and it makes her melt everytime. 

“It’s not fair when you do that,” she says half-heartedly. “Frankly, I’m more concerned about the teasing I’m going to get from Alya and Maman. They both thought I was interested in you way before I found out you were Chat.”

“Were you interested?”

The question gives Marinette pause. “I – no? Not really? I’ve liked Chat for so long. You swept me off my feet, _Chaton_ , even if I wasn’t sure if anything was going to happen. How could I even think about being interested in someone else when I already had a partner who was everything I wanted?”

He gives her a look of such intense adoration that it takes her breath away, and says, “I feel the same way. Nino asked me if I was interested in you, but I was blinded by Ladybug. I couldn’t even think about anyone else. But I also remember thinking to myself that if Ladybug weren’t around, maybe I would’ve asked you out on a date. Now it turns out I don’t have to worry about it. Here I was thinking black cats are unlucky.”

“We’re a balance, remember? I’m supposed to have good luck,” Marinette reminds him. Sometimes her partner forgets about that part of it. Whenever he gets too down on himself, she’s always quick to remind him that they’re two halves of a whole. Her luck is enough for both of them.

“How could I forget? Sometimes that was the only thing that kept me going,” Adrien says, squeezing her hand. Then he yawns. It’s catching, and Marinette hides her second yawn behind her hand.

“Come on, kitty. Let’s go home and go to bed,” she says, getting up.

He walks her home, ever the gentleman, and then lets her go into the bakery alone. By the time Marinette has gotten through enduring the less-than-subtle teasing and knowing looks from her parents and gone upstairs, Chat is already waiting for her on the balcony. She opens her window to let him in. He doesn’t have any pajamas tonight; Marinette looks away politely while Adrien takes off his jeans and slides under the covers. Then she joins him, sliding into his arms and falling asleep.

Adrien is gone again before she wakes up, and she doesn’t really get the chance to see him much during the day. He has lessons immediately after school, so Marinette heads home alone and helps out in the bakery for a while. Then she spends a while on her homework, before moving on to putting some touch-ups on their sketches. By the time Adrien knocks on her window, she’s tired and he looks so exhausted that they don’t even talk. They just curl up in bed together.


	12. Chapter 12

On Wednesday morning, the day of their anniversary, Marinette wakes up feeling a flush of excitement. Last year, their anniversary kind of sucked. There was an akuma that took them several hours to beat, and by the time all was said and done she and Chat were both so tired that their well wishings were half-hearted at best. In the last few seconds before they both de-transformed, she’d given Chat a blue scarf for the occasion. He told her that he liked it at their next patrol, but it’s not like he’s ever got the chance to wear it around her.

It’s more than that, though. There’s something innately _frustrating_ about not being able to spend the day together they way they wanted to. This year, she had planned for a picnic. She was going to bring some of her parent’s pastries along, and maybe some champagne, and they would sit under the stars like they had so many times before and quietly celebrate making it to two years.

They’re still going to do that, but now they can do _more_ and it’s thrilling.

She pats Adrien’s gift fondly as she gets ready for school. She knitted him gloves and a hat to match his scarf, and then made him a leather jacket from a material that’s not unlike his suit. It’s kind of a combination birthday-anniversary gift, since she and Chat agreed not to share their birthdays when they first became partners. She knows what date his birthday is now, but she still wants to give it to him today. 

But first, there’s a full day of school to get through. Naturally, Marinette doesn’t pay much attention. She feels a renewed frission of excitement every time Adrien’s eyes catch hers, and she can tell that he’s feeling the same way. It only gets worse when he pulls her aside and whispers that their date tonight is on him, and that he wants her to dress up a little. And he does it seconds before Alya walks over, so Marinette can’t even ask him questions.

Anyone would think Marinette is the cat from how much curiosity burns away at her the rest of the afternoon. 

She goes straight home after school and, after taking a bit of time to set up her own part of their date, showers, washing her hair. Then she heads back to her room to pick out her outfit. She doesn’t have a lot of dresses to choose from, but she has made herself a few. Tikki helps her to eliminate options until she’s down to three. Marinette tries each one on and critically examines her appearance in the mirror, hands on her hips. 

“I dunno, Tikki. What if he doesn’t like them?”

“This is Adrien we’re talking about. He’ll love you in anything,” Tikki says. “Or nothing.”

“Tikki!” Marinette whisper-hisses, face burning. 

Tikki laughs at her. “Relax, Marinette. You look beautiful in everything you wear, so pick whatever you’re going to be the most comfortable in.”

Marinette pouts, but looks back at the mirror. She has to admit that the dress she’s wearing is one of her favorites. She made it last year, and it’s a deep pink color, bordering on red in certain lights, dotted with black spots. It’s got a sweetheart neckline, thin straps, and a fitted waist. She also made a black jacket to wear over it, which has long sleeves and is pinned at the waist to make the hem flare out and give it a bit of an edge. With black, two-inch heels, the outfit makes the most of her below average chest and draws attention to her slender waist.

“Yeah, okay, I think I’ll go with this one. I don’t usually wear it out in public because I don’t want people drawing the obvious comparison, but it feels right,” Marinette says, doing a quick spin. As a bonus, she adores the way the skirt flares out around her thighs.

“I love it,” Tikki says.

“Of course you do. It’s inspired by you,” Marinette says playfully, moving to twist her hair up. She’s forgoing her usual pigtails in favor of a bun, which is how she wore her hair for years. 

“Marinette! Adrien’s here!” Maman calls up.

“Coming!” Marinette shouts back. She grabs her black purse and holds it open for Tikki to dart inside, then clatters down the steps.

“Oh, _Ma Belle_ ,” Papa says, whistling. “This is a dinner with the boy who is just a friend, no?”

Marinette blushes. “He… might be a little more,” she admits.

Maman grins at her, but speaks to Papa. “You owe me five euros. I told you they were more than friends.”

“Maman! Papa!” Marinette whines, stomping her foot.

Her parents laugh, and then Maman comes over and tucks a wayward strand of hair behind Marinette’s ear. “You look lovely, _Ma Cherie_. I hope you have a wonderful time.”

“Thanks, Maman,” Marinette says shyly. 

“Make sure you’re home by curfew,” Papa adds. “And no funny business.”

Marinette scowls at him. “What are you insinuating, Papa?”

“Don’t start, you two,” Maman says. “Adrien is waiting.”

“Oh no! He’s standing outside! How rude!” Marinette rushes to the door, leaving her chuckling parents behind her, and quickly opens it to find Adrien waiting. His appearance leaves her breathless. He’s wearing a pair of black dress pants, a white dress shirt, and a green tie. His hair is styled into something between his typical Adrien style and how he wears it as Chat.

“Hi,” Adrien says, offering her a bouquet of red and pink roses.

“Wow, they’re gorgeous. Thank you.” Marinette takes the bouquet and ducks her head, pressing her nose into a rose. It smells so sweet.

“I’ll put them in water for you,” Maman says, holding her hands out. Marinette passes her the bouquet and suddenly realizes that she’s forgotten about Adrien’s gift.

“I forgot! I’ll be right back!” She sprints upstairs to her room, grabs the gift, and rushes back downstairs before her parents can start giving Adrien the third degree; she knows better than to leave them alone for too long, not if she and Adrien actually want to get to dinner. And Marinette did not get this dressed up just to sit around in her living room!

Papa looks at her curiously when she comes back down holding a gift under her arm. Marinette doesn’t offer up an explanation, instead ushering Adrien out of the apartment before her maman can come back out of the kitchen. The door closes behind them and Marinette breathes a quiet sigh of relief. As much as she loves her parents, they can be kind of a lot sometimes.

“You look beautiful,” Adrien says as they walk down the steps.

“Th-thanks,” Marinette stutters. “You beautiful look too – I-I m-mean, you look beautiful – handsome! You look… very handsome.” Her face feels hot and she grinds her teeth. Why does she turn into such a pathetic moron at the most inopportune moments?

Adrien looks like he’s holding back a laugh. “Thanks, Princess. Allow me.” He moves to open the door of the car for her and Marinette wants to die. She is not going to survive this if he keeps acting like such a gentleman while looking so unfairly attractive.

She slides into the car, moving over so Adrien can join her. He shuts the door and the car pulls away from the curb. Marinette peers curiously at the front seat and sees a massive man at the steering wheel. He’s driven Adrien to school in the mornings, she remembers. Adrien doesn’t talk about him that much and she’s never bothered to ask, mostly because Adrien hates talking about anything related to his father so much.

“Where are we going?” she whispers.

“Maybe I want to surprise you,” he says.

“Tell meeeeeee,” Marinette whines, poking him in the side. 

“Okay, okay! We’re going to _La Belle Lumiére_.”

“Really?” Marinette gasps, shocked. She’s heard her parents talking about that restaurant. It’s very expensive and exclusive. You have to be someone to even get in the door, and she knows for a fact that you have to call weeks, if not months, in advance to get on the list.

“Yes, really. That’s why I told you to dress up.”

“But… but how did you even get us a reservation?” she asks, fully expecting him to say that he used his last name. Much to her surprise, Adrien looks away in embarrassment.

“I’ve had this reservation for months,” he admits.

“For months? We didn’t even know who each other was until a few days ago,” Marinette says, eyebrows furrowing.

Adrien flushes. “I know. I just… I hoped that we would know by the time our second anniversary came around,” he whispers, voice too soft for his driver to hear. “And even if we didn’t know, I still wanted to ask you to go there with me. Even if it had to be in our suits, I’ve dreamed of taking you to this restaurant since the day we met. I really wanted the chance to make it happen. I had a reservation last year too, but then the akuma happened and I never got the chance to ask you to join me.”

Momentarily speechless, and so touched that she has to blink rapidly to avoid ruining her painstakingly applied eye make-up, Marinette just stares at him while Adrien gets steadily redder.

“I get that it’s a lot,” he says in a low, strained voice. “If it’s too much, you can say. I just – my mother and I used to go there every year for my birthday. It was our special date. And I really wanted to take you there too.”

“Oh, Adrien.” Marinette reaches out, placing a hand on his shoulder. She’s not sure what else to say, except, “Of course I would have joined you, even in our suits. But I’m really glad that I was able to get dressed up for this instead. I have the feeling Marinette and Adrien will enjoy their dinner way more than Ladybug and Chat would.”

He gives her a small, shy smile. “Yeah, I wasn’t really looking forward to all of the attention we would’ve gotten. It would’ve been worth it to have dinner with you, but still.”

This boy is too good for her. Everytime she starts to forget that, he does or says something so amazingly sweet that the memory of it knocks her heads over heels. Marinette takes a deep breath and smiles back. Suddenly the hat, gloves and jacket feel pretty inadequate and she wishes that she had something else to give him. She should’ve done something more. But how could she have known that Adrien would go to this much trouble?

The car pulls up in front of _La Belle Lumiére_. Adrien gets out first and then holds his hand out to help her out of the car. He offers her his arm and Marinette takes it automatically, tucking her gift under her other arm. They walk into the restaurant together. They’re greeted by a man dressed in a full suit, who looks at them like he’s fully ready to escort them back outside.

Then Adrien says, “We have a reservation under Marchand?”

“Oh, of course. Right this way.”

“Marchand?” Marinette whispers, curious.

“My mother’s maiden name,” Adrien murmurs back. “It was the name she always used to use when she came here. I’m not sure why.”

Their table is off to the side of the restaurant, tucked away in a more secluded corner. Marinette figures that was on purpose, just in case it ended up being Ladybug and Chat who came here. She doesn’t mind. It’ll be easier to talk without being overheard here. She takes a seat and Adrien sits across from her. The man nods at them both and then slips away.

There are menus on the table already. Marinette picks one up and opens, wincing at the sight of the prices. One meal is worth more than what she gets for an allowance and what she gets for the commissions that she does each month, combined. She understands now why Adrien wanted it to be his treat, because there’s no way she could afford to eat here. Not unless she wants to do nothing with her friends for the next month, and refrain from buying any new fabrics in the near future.

If it were anyone else, the choice of restaurant might be off-putting. But she knows her partner well enough to know that Adrien really just wanted to come here because of his mother. The price of it all probably didn’t even occur to him much beyond offering to pay. This is all sentimental, not showing off. That knowledge is what makes her close her menu and smile across the table.

“I’m not sure what to have, so I’m putting my order in your hands. I want whatever you and your mother used to have when you came here.”

Some of the tension in Adrien’s face and shoulders ease. “Mère used to order for me, actually. One time when I was really little, I wanted a cheeseburger and she had to talk me into eating something else. Ever since then, it’s been her choice. She knows – knew what I liked.”

“Well, today you can choose for me,” Marinette says, as gently as she can. Adrien’s never talked much about his mother. Finding out that she disappeared shortly before they got their miraculouses is the most Marinette’s ever heard about her. Actually, before that, she sort of assumed that his mother was dead. 

The waiter comes over and Adrien does just that, putting in an order for some kind of pasta dish. Once the waiter is gone, they’re left looking at each other. The lighting in the restaurant is dim, and largely left to the candles on each table. Adrien’s face is cast into shadows, which makes him look a little like he’s wearing his mask. The light catches his green eyes, makes them sparkle. 

She loves him. It hits her suddenly, like a slap to the face, and makes her breath catch. She already knew, of course, but this feeling – it’s _so intense_. It feels like her whole life has been winding up to this moment, to Ladybug and Chat Noir sharing a meal in a restaurant, and her whole body aches with how much she wants to live for this.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting the rest of their date as an extra-long chapter. Enjoy the calm before the storm...

After a few moments of silence, Adrien sighs. “Mère loved the way they prepare chicken here,” he says quietly.

“I’m sure it’s delicious,” Marinette says shakily, overwhelmed. She’s only sixteen. How can she feel this strongly about someone already?

His mouth twitches into a half-smile. “I’m not a big fan of it here. I ordered seafood for us.”

“Kitties love seafood,” she says, and it’s a dumb comment, but Adrien blinks and then starts to laugh. Marinette laughs too, maybe a little helplessly.

“Sometimes I wonder what she would’ve thought about all this,” Adrien says, his mirth falling away as quickly as it came. 

“Would you tell me about her?” Marinette asks, leaning over the table to take his hands in hers. “If you want to talk about her… I’d love to listen.”

The way he exhales, a full body shudder, tells her that he’s been hoping she would ask. His hands clutch at hers almost desperately as he says, “She was an actress, not a model, but she loved fashion. That’s how she and my father met. She was a big fan of his work, and they met at a party when she stopped him to tell him that. According to my dad, she also criticized one of his designs. Mère used to say that was a lie, but I’m not sure it was. She was never afraid to speak her mind.”

“She sounds like a wonderful person,” Marinette says, wondering what it would be like to grow up with two headstrong, opinionable parents. No wonder Adrien sometimes just sits back and watches everything play out without offering his opinion. No wonder Chat looks to Ladybug to lead.

“She had her angry moments. If she decided that something was going to happen, there was no talking her out of it. It was her idea that I be homeschooled, actually, though my father was in immediate agreement with it.”

Marinette frowns. “Do you know why?”

“I think she was worried about me and what would happen to me in school because of who my parents are. I think she thought I’d be bullied,” Adrien says, shrugging one shoulder. “Or that I’d, I dunno, put myself in danger somehow.”

“Considering what we do on a daily basis, I can’t blame her for that,” Marinette says wryly.

He smirks. “Right? Anyway, I was fine with it when I was younger because it meant I got to travel with Mère and Père whenever they went away for work. We went all over the world, looking for inspiration for Père’s new fashion lines. I’ve been everywhere. Mère was the one who kept up with my education. We did a lot of sight seeing so that I could look at things in person.”

“That sounds fascinating,” Marinette says, a little awed. She can’t imagine what that’s like. She can’t imagine what Adrien’s seen.

“It really was. I liked that part of it. It wasn’t until –” He pauses, swallowing. “Until she disappeared, and my lessons became home-based, that I started to hate it. If I couldn’t have my mother, I wanted to get out of the house and spend time with other kids my age. That’s why I started pushing to go to public school. It took my father a long time to agree, but I’m glad I kept at it. Otherwise, we probably wouldn’t be sitting here together.”

“Yeah, we would. But we’d be in our suits, and would probably be getting stared at a lot more,” Marinette replies. Yet she knows what Adrien means: they wouldn’t know each other’s identities. 

He shoots her a smile and lets go of her hands as the waiter reappears with their meals. As they eat, he tells her more about his mother. Émilie Agreste sounds like a very nice person and it’s clear that Adrien adores her. It’s even more obvious that her sudden disappearance completely gutted him. Marinette can’t even fathom it. How could you leave your child behind? How could anyone leave _Adrien_ behind?

She won’t. She makes that determination in between a bite of pasta and a sip of water, staring across the table at her partner’s expressive hands as he describes the time he and his mother rode the subway in New York and got lost. She’ll never leave Adrien, not for anything. He’s her kitty, her _chaton_ , and they’ll be together until the end, whatever and whenever that end may be. 

“Are you okay?” Adrien asks, cutting off his story. “You look really intent.”

“It’s nothing,” Marinette says with a shake of her head. 

“Am I talking too much? I know talking about my mother isn’t really date material.”

“Adrien, it’s fine. I love hearing more about your mom, because it means I’m learning more about you,” Marinette tells him. “Plus, I get the feeling that you don’t get to talk about her much.”

“My father doesn’t like talking about her,” he admits. “I, uh, don’t bring her up anymore. Not since he started… you know.” His mouth puckers and her heart goes out to him. Such a contrast from the beautiful family that travelled the world to this. 

“I’m sorry,” Marinette whispers. It seems so paltry, but Adrien looks at her like he appreciates her sympathy.

“I just wish I knew why,” he says. “More than anything, I wish I knew why.”

The problem, she knows, is that even if he did know why, it probably wouldn’t feel like a satisfactory answer. His mother disappeared and his father regularly hits him. How can there be a good answer to something like that? To knowing that your mother thought you weren’t worth staying around for, and that your father blames you for that? Based on what Adrien’s told her, he blames Gabriel Agreste for it all and that probably stresses things even more. Too much tension, all wrapped up in pain and hurt and grief.

“Maybe someday we can find the answer,” Marinette says, touching his hand. “I would do anything to help you find her.”

His eyes too bright, Adrien sets his fork down and takes her hand in his. “I know you would, My Lady. And I lack the words to tell you how much that means to me, but it’s a lot.”

“I know.” She squeezes his hand and abruptly decides that she’s had enough fancy pasta. “Do you want to get out of here? I have something planned.”

“Absolutely,” Adrien says, leaning back and making a motion to their waiter. The man approaches their table and Adrien slips him a card. Shortly thereafter, they’re on their way out of the restaurant. Marinette carries her gift out, wishing she’d just left it behind in her room. It just didn’t seem right to give it to him in such a fancy place.

“Should I call the car?” he asks once they’re outside, and Marinette shoots him a private smile.

“I think we have our own transportation,” she purrs, beckoning to him. He drifts after her as though helpless to do otherwise, following her into the alley alongside the restaurant. Marinette does a quick check to be sure no one’s paying attention, but no one gives a couple of teenagers a second look. Had Adrien used the Agreste name, they might be getting some attention – but he didn’t, and so they’re home free.

They transform, and then Ladybug wraps an arm around Chat’s waist – carefully, mindful of the fact that his ribs may still be tender – and uses her yoyo to launch them into the sky. He leans into her, trusting her to take them wherever she wants to go, and that trust is overwhelming in the best way. Ladybug exhales shakily and concentrates on her yoyo, swinging them through the city until they get to the Eiffel Tower.

“What are you planning?” Chat asks into her ear.

“Nothing too special,” she replies, twisting her wrist so that her yoyo will yank them up higher. When she lets go, the momentum swings them forward so that they land on a beam. Chat immediately turns around, always curious, and gasps quietly.

“Oh, LB,” he says, looking at the blanket, the couple of electric candles, the box of pastries.

“I know it’s not a fancy restaurant,” Ladybug begins.

Chat shakes his head. “It doesn’t need to be. The restaurant was kinda stupid, in retrospect.”

“Hey, no. It wasn’t stupid. I loved getting dressed up and going to dinner with you,” she says firmly. “It was a lot of fun, and probably not something I would’ve gotten to do without you. I had a good time tonight, and I’m touched you took me somewhere that’s so important to you.”

“Really?” he says skeptically, and Ladybug nods.

“Yes, really. Tikki, spots off!” The red light washes over her, returning her to Marinette. She sets her gift down and takes a careful seat on the blanket. They’re too high up for anyone on the ground to see them, so she’s not overly concerned about being up her de-transformed. At one point, it would’ve really bothered her to be this high as just Marinette. But not so much now. Tikki would never let her fall, and neither would Chat.

Chat de-transforms and he and Plagg join her and Tikki. Marinette opens up the pastry box and pulls out macarons and cheese danishes. Plagg squeals with joy and literally throws himself at a danish, which makes Adrien and Tikki both roll their eyes. Marinette hides her fond smile – she thinks Plagg is absolutely adorable, and is absolutely determined to make sure the kwami never figures that out less he use that against her – and offers Tikki a pink macaron, which the kwami daintily takes.

“Perfect dessert,” Adrien says with a happy sigh, taking a blue macaron for himself. They’re blueberry flavored, Marinette knows. She opts for a green macaron, which is key lime.

“I have something for you,” she says, feeling a flutter of nerves, and finally sets the gift in his lap.

"Will it break if I shake it?" he asks in all seriousness, popping the last of his macaron into his mouth. He sets a hand on the wrapping paper, running his fingers across it carefully. He did this last time too: acted like the gift was something precious. He opened it so slowly that Marinette almost went crazy waiting for the last of the paper to come off.

"No, but if you take too long to open it, I might," she says.

Adrien chuckles at that, eyes soft as he slowly begins to peel the paper away. "I can't help myself. You're the only person who has given me a gift in the past three years."

"What?!" Marinette exclaims, head snapping up.

"That's not true. I gave you a chunk of Camembert for your birthday!" Plagg pipes up, sounding deeply offended.

"What, really?" Tikki says, clearly astonished. "You wouldn't even share your cheese with me!"

"Yes, except for Plagg," Adrien says, rolling his eyes. "My father... he doesn't pay attention to my birthday or to Christmas. I think he finds them too hard to think about. The last time I tried to interact with him on Christmas, he slapped me across the face." He says it in such a matter-of-fact way that Marinette recoils slightly, more horrified by how blasé Adrien is about the abuse than the abuse itself. It curls her stomach to know that it's a normal way of life for him, because it shouldn't be like that.

She struggles to regain her composure, and is proud that her voice sounds relatively calm when she asks, "What about Chloé?"

"What about her?"

"Well, she's your friend, isn't is? She and - Oh." Marinette pauses, then groans. "Oh my god, I just realized who that other friend you were talking about is! It's me, isn't it?"

"Of course it is." Adrien smiles at her. "And frankly, sometimes I'm not sure I consider Chloé to be much of a friend. We were friends when we were little more because our parents didn't really let us spent time with anyone else. Now that I know what it's like to be friends with you, my so-called friendship with Chloé really pales in comparison."

Marinette is quiet for a moment, thinking about that, before she says, "As much as I dislike Chloé, it's probably not fair to compare your relationship with her to what our relationship. We're partners. What we have goes much deeper than anything you could possibly share with her. I love Alya, but she's just my friend. My friendship with her will never match the one I have with you, and frankly I wouldn't want it to. Considering what we do, and how much trust we have to have in each other, our relationship should be the strongest one that we have."

"I never thought about it like that," Adrien admits. "But still. Sometimes I think Chloé wants more than I want to give her."

"Uh, yeah," Marinette says with a laugh, thinking back to how Chloé basically threatened her. Boy is Chloé going to be pissed when she finds out that Marinette and Adrien are dating! It's going to be an interesting couple weeks at school, as she's pretty sure Chloé will throw some kind of tantrum. 

"Did she say something to you?" He looks over at her with a frown.

"She did, but it was nothing I couldn't handle. Chloé's been a bitch to me for as long as I've known her, so her snippy comments are really nothing new. But you should know that Chloé isn't going to take the news of you and me dating very well. She's going to be really mad and she'll probably confront at least me, if not both of us. She might even try to kiss you."

Adrien makes a face. "I hate when she does that. Maybe I'll talk to her. She might take the news better if it comes from me."

"Maybe," Marinette says neutrally, privately thinking that's about as likely as Plagg declaring that he hates cheese. In her experience, Chloé never gives up on anything lightly. In a way, that's not a bad thing: she dreads to think of how lonely Adrien would've been if he didn't have Chloé for some kind of company after his mother disappeared. She wants to ask if Chloé knows about the abuse, but bites the question back at the last second. She can guess that the answer is probably no. It took Chat a long time before he could even talk about it with Ladybug, and even then it was only because Ladybug had seen too much.

"Anyway, to answer your question, Chloé's not great at remembering birthdays. If it's something that doesn't immediately relate to herself, Chloé doesn't have much interest in it."

Yeah, that sounds about right. Marinette sighs. "Well, from now on you'll get at least one gift on your birthday, at Christmas and on our anniversary," she says briskly. She may not be able to change much else, but she can make sure of that.

Adrien looks at her with that same awed, adoring expression and says, "You're so amazing."

"I'm really not," Marinette says, flushing slightly. "Go on! You haven't even opened your gift. You may hate it."

"No chance of that happening," Adrien says, but he does finally keep unwrapping the gift. He pulls the last of the paper off and looks down at the plain clothing box. Marinette wanted to paint it, but she just didn't have enough time. Now, she wishes that she had.

Very slowly, Adrien lifts the top of the box. His eyes widen as he takes out the gloves first, running his fingers across the soft fabric. She watches anxiously as he slides them on and is relieved to see that they fit perfectly; she thought she had his hand size right, but it was hard to get without outright telling him why she wanted to know. The next thing he pulls out is the hat, which he immediately slides on. She deliberately made it baggy enough that he can wear it either as Adrien or Chat, since there's room for his kitty ears - as Adrien, he can just pull it down further to make it fit properly.

"There's more," Marinette says, when it seems like he thinks he's finished. 

He gasps as he pulls out the jacket, holding it up in front of him. Marinette examines it with a newly critical eye. She's not entirely pleased with how it turned out, but leather isn't an easy fabric to work with and it was expensive on top of that. The jacket is waist-length, with a silver zipper and a popped collar. She added in two pockets on the outside and a secret pocket on the inside, over the right breast, for Plagg. To make it more personal, she hand-embroidered a pattern of bright red, black-spotted ladybug across the back, up over both the shoulders and then down the left front side of the jacket. Adrien's face twists as he fingers one of the ladybugs and Marinette's heart sinks.

"Do you hate it?" she asks timidly. "I know it's got a lot of mistakes. I started it way before I found out who you were." Way before she realized how interested he was in fashion, and realized that he'd be able to pick out the worst of her mistakes. "But I put so much time into it that I really didn't have a chance to make you anything else. If you hate it, you don't have to wear it."

"Hate it?" Adrien repeats, sounding strangled, and looks like he wants to cry. Without a word, he leans over and crushes her into a hug so tight that Marinette squeaks. Over Adrien's shoulder, she catches a glimpse of Tikki and Plagg quietly vacating the area. They don't go far, just around the nearest beam, but it's enough to give her and Adrien the illusion of privacy.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Marinette murmurs, wrapping her arm around him. She cups the back of his head, smoothing his hair down. "Talk to me, _Mon minou_."

"I know how much work it is to do something like this. It must've taken you months. And you did it for me." Adrien's voice sounds ragged. She can't see his face but she thinks he's definitely crying.

"Of course I did. You're my kitty," she whispers. "You deserve so much more."

"No, I... I love it. This is perfect the way it is. Thank you, Marinette." He pulls back. The light of the candles reflects the tears on his face. "No one has ever put this much effort into something for me."

Her heart aches, and she leans forward to press their foreheads together. "I love you. You're worth every minute that it took."

His eyes brighten further. "I love you too, My Lady. I love you so much." He hugs her again, the jacket crushed between them, and Marinette hugs him back and strokes his hair until he calms down. 

When he pulls back again, he puts the jacket on. She's pleased to note that it fits pretty well. It's little baggy around the waist, but that just means it will still fit once she manages to get a few more pounds on his too-thin frame, so she's okay with that. Adrien zips it up and beams at her. He looks adorable wearing a leather jacket, knitted gloves and hat, and dress pants, and Marinette helplessly smiles back at him. 

"I have something for you too," he says then.

"You bought me dinner! That's more than enough!"

Adrien gives her a look. "After the work you put into my gift, dinner and what I got for you seems silly in comparison." He hands her a small box. Marinette opens it quickly and gasps softly.

It's a silver charm bracelet, with a few charms already on it. She takes it out of the box, fingering the delicate chain. The first charm is a little red ladybug with five black spots on its wings - she has to wonder how long it took Adrien to find one with exactly five spots. The second charm is a black kitty with green jewels for eyes. Then the third charm is a little spool of pink thread. The fourth charm is a baker's hat. The fifth charm is a red rose. The sixth charm is a little silver sketchbook. She examines each one, touched by how much thought has gone into them.

"I thought about getting you a promise ring," Adrien says, and Marinette's eyes fly over to him. "But Plagg talked me out of it. He said that it would look weird to everyone since it seems like we've only known each other for a few weeks."

"I can't believe Plagg showed that much common sense," Marinette says dazedly, her pulse quickening at the confession. A promise ring. That speaks of a level of committment she hadn't anticipated, though she thinks that maybe she should have. Because he's her other half, they're two halves of a whole, and who else is she ever going to love as much as she loves this boy?

A small smile works its way across his face. "It's uncommon, but sometimes he can pull his head out of his cheese long enough to be helpful. Anyway... I bought you this instead." He holds out a seventh charm. It's a little ring with a clear gem on top. "I left it off the bracelet just in case you thought it was too much. Which I would totally understand, by the way. I thought it was a step down from a promise ring, so maybe it wasn't so heavy, but I've been told that I can be weird about this stuff so -"

"Is that a diamond?" Marinette cuts him off, staring at it.

"Uh... maybe?"

She closes her eyes. "And the ladybug and kitty..."

"Precious gems. Very precious."

"I promise I'm not a material girl," she says, opening her eyes to stare at him, "but I love you so fucking much right now." She grips the collar of his jacket and yanks him in, pressing their mouths together before she can second-guess herself.

Adrien makes a startled sound against her lips, but then he melts into her so quickly that Marinette can only clutch at him. Neither of them has ever kissed anyone before, Dark Cupid incident aside, and so their kisses are clumsy and chaste. But they're still more than enough to send a rush of warmth through Marinette. Her lips tingle, and it's the same feeling she gets when she's flying through Paris with only the help of her yoyo: like she's weightless, invincible. But the comfort of his grip makes her feel like she's home.

"I love you too," Adrien says again, looking a little dazed now, when they separate. "So... it's not too much?"

"It might be, but I don't care." Marinette gently takes the little charm from him and adds it to her bracelet. That makes seven charms, and that's a lucky number. "Will you put it on me?"

"Sure." He takes the bracelet and drapes it over her wrist, fastening it. Marinette moves her wrist, admiring the way the light plays across the bracelet. It's beautiful and she can't wait to show it to her maman and Alya.

"Thank you, Adrien," she says softly, looking up at him. "I love it."

He smiles back, looking relieved. "I'm so glad. I only realized while I was shopping that I don't know a lot about your jewelry tastes. It wasn't like I could buy you earrings." He brushes a thumb against her left earlobe, just barely skimming her miraculous.

“Yeah, earrings aren’t really something that works for me anymore,” Marinette admits, leaning into his touch. “At some point, I might get my ears pierced a second time. I have tons of cute earrings that I can’t wear now.”

“A second piercing would look nice,” he says. He takes off the gloves, setting them aside with one last gentle stroke, then picks up a slightly crushed macaron and bites into it, making a quiet sound of pleasure.

“Are you done being mushy now? I want cheese!” Plagg calls out plaintively.

Marinette snorts. “Come on out.”

Plagg zooms over first, dive bombing a danish without even looking at either Marinette or Adrien. Tikki follows more slowly and makes the appropriate oohing and awwing noises over Marinette’s new bracelet. Marinette smiles, especially when she notices Adrien flushed with pleasure over Tikki’s praise. He’s proud of himself for picking it out, she can tell. That just makes it all the more precious.

They spend several more minutes at the tower, eating the macarons that Tikki doesn’t, and exchanging lazy kisses. It feels like it’s far too early when Marinette’s phone goes off, signifying that it’s time for her to head home. She hates to leave, hates to have this special night end, and knows that Adrien feels the same way. They look at each other reluctantly.

“I’ll be over soon,” Adrien promises, touching Marinette’s cheek. “I’m going to swing by my house and grab some pajamas and a change of clothes so I don’t have to leave so early tomorrow morning.”

“That would be nice. I’d love to wake up with you,” Marinette says with a shy smile. “Tikki, spots on!”

“Plagg, claws out!”


	14. Chapter 14

Ladybug cleans up their picnic, tucking everything back into her pack. Then she slings it over her shoulder and kisses Chat goodbye, loving that she gets to do that now. There’s no more wondering whether his flirting is real or not. She knows that he loves her, and she loves him, and that they’re partners in more than just their miraculous work now. It’s a really good feeling.

She takes the short way home, over the rooftops of Paris, and doesn’t think it’s her imagination that she hears the sound of Chat Noir whooping in the distance. Giggling, Ladybug touches down on the streets of Paris and de-transforms. Marinette opens her purse for Tikki to hide and then walks up to the bakery door. She opens it up and slips inside with a happy sigh.

“Marinette, is that you?”

“It’s me, Maman. I’m home.” Marinette clatters up the stairs to find her maman and papa sitting on the couch together, watching television. They’re usually in bed no later than nine on weeknights, and she’s touched to know they waited up just for her.

“Well, how was it?” Maman asks.

“It was amazing,” Marinette says with a dreamy sigh. “He took me to _La Belle Lumiére_.”

“Wow,” Papa says, looking impressed. “That must’ve been expensive.”

“It sure wasn’t cheap. And then he bought me this charm bracelet.” Marinette shows it off, twisting her arm so that her parents can see. She frowns when they don’t look happy for her, instead exchanging long looks. “What? What is it?”

“Marinette, that seems like a lot for a first date. You just met Adrien and he took you out to a very expensive restaurant and then bought you a bracelet. I’m not sure I’m comfortable with this,” Maman says.

Oh shit. Marinette looks between them, realizing that she’s screwed up big time, and quickly backtracks. “Maman, the bracelet wasn’t expensive. It’s something that Adrien got from a show of his father’s. He thought I’d like to have it because a model wore it on the catwalk. He got it for free. It’s just costume jewelry.” The lies come out way more smoothly than they should. She hates that she’s so practiced at lying.

“It doesn’t look like costume jewelry,” Maman says skeptically.

“It is. Come on. Adrien wouldn’t buy me an expensive bracelet for our first date. He wouldn’t buy me something expensive for no reason, period.” Marinette pulls the sleeve of her jacket down a bit further. God forbid her parents figure out that one of the charms has an actual, though very tiny, diamond. They’ll really freak out then.

“And the restaurant?” Papa says, raising his eyebrows.

“It’s special to Adrien. It’s the place he used to visit with his mom before she disappeared. I think he just wanted to feel close to her, that’s all.” Marinette lets herself frown. “I was really happy tonight. Adrien loved the hat and gloves I knitted for him.” She omits any mention of the jacket, and is deeply grateful she didn’t show it to either one of them before she wrapped it up.

Maman sighs and gets up. “I’m glad you were happy, _Ma chérie_. I just want you to be careful. It’s easy for things to move fast with a first love, and I don’t want you getting in over your head.”

“I’m not in over my head, I promise,” Marinette says. In fact, her relationship with Adrien is probably the thing that she’s least worried about right now. It’s the only thing that makes her feel tethered sometimes.

“Okay. I believe you,” Maman says. “Your bracelet is lovely. It was kind of him to give it to you, and we’re glad you had fun.”

“I had a lot of fun,” Marinette says quietly. This is one more thing she’s going to have to hide from her parents, or at least scale back. They have no idea that she and Adrien have a history of two years of being partners who have literally fought to the death together. To them, she and Adrien just met. Plagg was right. She shouldn’t have shown her parents the bracelet, and she should’ve lied about where she and Adrien went.

From now on, she’s going to have to heavily edit whatever she tells them. That knowledge weighs heavily on her as she bids her parents good night and climbs the stairs up to her bedroom. She closes the trap door and locks it, then just stands there for a moment. Her purse pops open and Tikki flies out, hovering up near Marinette’s face.

“I’m sorry, Marinette,” she says softly.

“It’s okay,” Marinette says. Her throat feels tight and her eyes are burning, but she refuses to cry. Not after such a beautiful night. Not when Adrien told her that he loved her.

“Marinette –”

“Really, Tikki, it’s fine. I was stupid. I should’ve known that Maman and Papa would think it was weird. To Adrien and me, it’s our two year anniversary. To Maman and Papa, it was our first date. I don’t know what I was thinking. I know better than that. I just… I wanted to share how happy I felt.” Marinette pinches her lips together, blinking rapidly.

Tikki sighs. “There’s nothing wrong with that. You weren’t being stupid.”

“Actually, I was. Thank goodness they believed my lie about it being costume jewelry.” She holds her arm up to better look at the bracelet. It’s _definitely_ not fake. She suspects that even the charms themselves are made from pure silver, if not white gold.

She moves over to her dresser, carefully slipping the bracelet off and hiding it in a drawer. Now she’s not sure she should show it to Alya. At least, not right away. But she also wants to wear it. Maybe she’ll wear longer sleeved shirts for the next couple of weeks, and then she can wear the bracelet under it. Then at least she can tell Alya that it’s not brand new.

“I’ll just have to be more careful about what I tell them from now on,” Marinette says, pulling the pins free from her hair. “Until Adrien and I have been dating for a while, and it looks more appropriate in their eyes for him to be spending money on me.” She frowns at her reflection. The sad, tired girl in the mirror does not look like a girl who just had an amazing night with the love of her life, and she hates that. Hates how easily the happy, floaty feeling has been ruined.

“Maybe you could tell your parents that you’ve been seeing him in secret?” Tikki suggested.

“Oh, Tikki. I appreciate that you’re trying to help, but believe me when I say that’s probably the worst thing I could do right now,” Marinette says. She can just imagine her parent’s reaction to something like that! The last thing she needs is for them to get suspicious and start poking around in her personal life.

She carefully pulls off her dress and hangs it back up in her closet, smoothing a wrinkle out of the front of the cloth. She’ll never forget the look on Adrien’s face when she opened up the door and he caught a glimpse of her wearing it. Marinette smiles softly to herself and pushes her closet door shut, already reaching for her pajamas. She’ll never hear the end of it if Adrien shows up when she’s in just a bra and panties.

Her cell phone beeps, and she moves over to it to check the message automatically. Her heart sinks straight through the floor when she sees the screen.

**A.A.: Cant make it tonight my father and I had words**

Had words? What does that mean? Her mind jumps to the worst conclusion and she grips her phone with shaking hands, typing back quickly.

**M.D.C.: Did he hurt you? Are you ok???**

**A.A.: yes milady I’m fine. He didnt hurt me, just yelled a lot**

**A.A.: but someone posted a picture of us online**

**A.A.: from the restaurant**

**A.A.: he saw it and wasn’t happy**

Someone took a picture of them? Marinette recoils slightly, lowering her phone and struggling to remember if she saw anyone with a camera or their phone out. No one comes to mind, but then again she wasn’t paying a lot of attention to the other people in the restaurant. She was too focused on Adrien. 

**A.A.: Ill see you tomorrow sleep well princess**

**M.D.C.: sleep well my prince**

“What’s wrong?” Tikki asks the second Marinette sets her phone down.

“Someone posted a picture of me and Adrien online, and his father saw it,” Marinette says.

Tikki looks horrified. “Is he okay?”

“He says he is,” she says, biting her lip. She wants to trust Adrien, she really does, but she also remembers when Chat hid everything from her. He’s always downplaying his injuries, partly because he doesn’t want her to worry about him and partly because she thinks he always wants to pretend that what his father does isn’t that bad. She’s dying to press for more details, but he made it pretty clear he’s done for the night.

She scoots over to her computer and boots it up, doing some quick searches. It only takes her a couple minutes to find the picture. At first glance, she barely recognizes the couple as her and Adrien. The picture has been taken from the back, so that Marinette’s face isn’t visible, just the dark of her hair and the brightness of her red dress. Adrien is leaning forwards, and his devoted expression is captured in perfect detail over Marinette’s right shoulder. The caption below the picture says, ‘AGRESTE SON HAS DINNER WITH POTENTIAL SQUEEZE?’

“It’s a good picture, but how awful for them to have posted that without your permission,” Tikki says, full of indignity. “They had no right to do that.”

“It was probably taken by a member of the press. We were in a public space,” Marinette says absently, studying the picture more closely. “I guess we should’ve been more careful.”

“You couldn’t have known,” Tikki protests.

“No, but Gabriel Agreste is a famous man and people recognize Adrien.” Marinette sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. There are so many ‘should have’s’ about tonight that she doesn’t even know where to start. It’s too late now. You’d have to be an idiot to interpret the look on Adrien’s face as anything other than one of love. Of course that would catch someone’s attention.

It’s too late to do anything about it now, and she supposes she should be grateful that her face wasn’t in the picture. She quickly scans the short article, but there’s no mention of her name or even any identifying features. Apparently the person who took the picture didn’t think Marinette was important enough to try and name. That will probably change with time as she and Adrien keep spending time together.

“You should go to bed,” Tikki says gently, landing on Marinette’s shoulder. “It’s late, and you’ve got school tomorrow.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Marinette mutters. She already knows she won’t sleep well, she got too used to Adrien’s presence beside her even though it’s only been a couple of nights, but she should at least try. She shuts her computer down, grabs her phone, and crawls into bed without bothering with pajamas.

As expected, she doesn’t sleep.

Come morning, Marinette is wide awake by the time her alarm goes off. Knowing there’s no point in lingering in bed this time around, she sluggishly drags herself out of bed and hauls on jeans, a long sleeved pink shirt, and her charm bracelet. She pulls her hair into pigtails and slips on sandals, then grabs her purse and slides a still slumbering Tikki inside. 

Her maman does a double take when Marinette walks into the kitchen. “You’re awake? A full half hour before school?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” Marinette says through a yawn. “May I take a few extra croissants for my friends today?”

Maman peers at her, frowning. “You don’t look very good. Are you sure you shouldn’t stay home?” She reaches out a hand like she’s going to place it against Marinette’s forehead. Marinette pulls back instinctively; she’s not sure if she’s running a fever, but letting her maman touch her probably isn’t the best idea if she actually wants to go to school and see Adrien.

“I’m fine, Maman. You know how my brain gets sometimes. It doesn’t want to shut off.” Marinette dodges around her maman and walks quickly towards the door.

“Marinette, I want you home right after school. No going out with your friends today,” Maman says. “You’re to come straight home and rest, got it?”

“Fine, fine. Can I take the croissants?”

Maman sighs. “Yes, take them.”

“Thanks Maman!” Marinette darts through the door before any more questions can be asked, clattering down the steps and into the kitchen of the bakery. She weaves her way among the workers, heading for the bin where her maman and papa put the pastries that aren’t pretty enough to be sold. She plucks a box off the nearest stack and loads it up with croissants that aren’t quite flaky enough, rolls that are a little too brown, and savory tarts that have cracked in the middle. 

She tucks the box into her backpack and heads out before her papa, hard at work kneading bread, even notices that she’s there. The bakery out front is filled with customers, so no one pays any attention to Marinette hurrying out past them. She scurries across the street and hurries towards the front gates of Collège Françoise Dupont. There she stands, waiting, for the next sixteen and a half minutes.

At last Adrien’s car drives up to the curb. Marinette studies him as he gets out, not having yet noticed her presence, and breathes a sigh of relief when she realizes that he’s moving normally. Adrien leans into the car and says something to his driver, then backs up and slams the door shuts. He pulls his backpack up onto his right shoulder and turns to walk towards the school, freezing in surprise when he sees her.

Marinette walks up to him and then into him, her arms wrapping around him. “I missed you last night.”

“I missed you too,” he says immediately, hugging her back. “I didn’t sleep at all last night, though that may have been because Plagg was whining about missing Tikki.”

“I was not!” Plagg hisses indignantly from where he’s trapped between them, and Marinette bites back a giggle.

“Are you okay?” she asks, drawing back a little so that she can see his face.

He sighs. “Yes, My Lady. I wasn’t lying to you.” 

“I didn’t think you were,” Marinette says. “But I also know that your standard of okay and my standard of okay are two different things.” She lightly boops him on the nose and is pleased to see him smile.

“That’s fair, I suppose, but really. I _am_ okay. He yelled a lot, but that’s about it.”

“Was he mad?” Marinette asks hesitantly.

Adrien considers the question, hands sliding down to rest on her hips. “Yes and no? I think he was more upset that it blindsided him, and that he didn’t see it coming. He really doesn’t like anything that reminds him of what a bad father he is.” His face twists, eyes rolling, before he shakes his head. “He said I should’ve told him first, and then he could’ve made an informed decision about whether or not I was allowed to go out on a date with you.”

“Please tell me that you didn’t tell him that you would’ve done it anyway,” Marinette says.

“I managed to bite that back,” Adrien says with a faint smirk. “I’m not nearly as brave standing in front of my father as I am when I stand at your side.” He pulls her back into a hug then, and Marinette goes willingly. She lays her head on his shoulder, looking at the spot where the car used to be. Anyone would think it means that Gabriel cares about her son, but she thinks it’s way more likely that it’s Gabriel’s new way of keeping tabs on his son after the news of their date last night.

Why can’t Gabriel just plain _care_? Why is that so hard?

So quietly that she almost misses it, Adrien murmurs, “He said that he wants to meet you.”

Marinette freezes. She probably should’ve expected that. If her parents found out that she was dating a guy they hadn’t met, they would definitely insist on a meeting. It’s only the fact that they’ve already met Adrien that’s kept them from demanding that of her now, and she still expects that her maman is going to ask Adrien over for dinner again very shortly.

“You don’t have to go,” Adrien continues. “I’d rather you didn’t, actually. Because I don’t know if I want you to be around him.” His body is tense, matching his voice, and she can guess that Adrien is super conflicted right now. He doesn’t want her there because they both know Gabriel is dangerous, but denying Gabriel this will just make his temper worse and could result in him banning them from seeing each other. Which wouldn’t stop them, of course, but it would make life infinitely more difficult for Adrien. 

“I’ll come,” Marinette says, making up her mind in the span of a few seconds.

“What? Marinette, you don’t have to –”

She puts a finger over his lips. “He’s your father. Like it or not, he does have the right to want to meet the girl who’s dating his son.” And she will _not_ make Adrien’s life worse than it already is. She just won’t. 

“What if he hurts you?” Adrien says. The fear in his eyes makes her ache. He’s so worried about her, but never seems to give himself the same consideration. 

“I’ll be fine. I really doubt that he would touch me.”

“It’s not just physical. My father can be cruel. And he won’t be happy that you like design.”

“So I’ll keep that part of it quiet,” Marinette says. “It’s not like my name is big in the design world. My parents own a bakery. I know enough about baking to make someone’s head spin. It won’t be that hard to deflect.” She takes Adrien’s hand, interlacing their fingers. “We’re partners, kitty. In everything, remember? We’ve faced akumas that are worse than this.” She tries to make her voice sound bright and confident.

In reality, they both know that facing Gabriel Agreste is a thousand times worse than even the most difficult akuma they’ve faced so far. But for the moment, she has to pretend otherwise. 

“Right,” Adrien says uncertainly. “I – thank you, Bugaboo.” He drops his head to press a kiss to her cheek.

“You don’t have to thank me,” Marinette says, but she knows what he means. Adrien knows her well enough to know that even mentioning a visit to Gabriel would be enough to make Marinette say yes, and, whether they want to admit it or not, there is a certain danger in it. Her parents would certainly forbid her from going if they knew the truth, that much she knows for sure. Frankly they might even try to stop her from seeing Adrien, which is why they will never know.

“I really do,” Adrien mutters. “Can you come for supper tomorrow night? It’ll be Friday, so I could come over after and we can stay up and watch movies?” He looks pathetically hopeful.

“Of course,” Marinette says, already making plans to bake some goodies tonight. If dinner is as paltry as the lunches she sees Adrien bring every day, she has the feeling that they’ll definitely still be hungry afterwards. They can have popcorn and chocolate chip cookies while they watch movies, with cheese popcorn for Plagg.

“Thank you,” Adrien says fervently, bringing their joined hands up to kiss the back of her hand.


	15. Chapter 15

And of course - _of course_ \- the instant Adrien’s lips touch her skin, that’s when Alya and Nino come around the corner towards the school and Alya lets out a shriek that rattles glass.

“ _Marinette Dupain-Cheng_! What was that?!” Alya screams so loudly that everyone, students heading into the school and passerbys, turn to stare. Marinette turns bright pink.

“Uhhh,” she says, turning to look at Adrien. He’s frozen with the back of her hand still pressed to his lips, eyes wide with panic. He slowly lowers his hand, looking at her like he’s expecting her to speak up, but Marinette’s brain is completely blank and she can’t think of a single thing to say.

“Well?!” Alya demands when several seconds pass by and neither of them responds.

“I was… saying good morning to my girlfriend?” Adrien says, making it sound like a question.

"Your _girlfriend_?!" Alya repeats, racing up to them. "When did that happen?! Last I heard you were going out on one date! One date!"

"It was a really good date," Adrien says with a straight face, squeezing Marinette’s hand, and she lets out a giggle before she can stop herself. 

"You're with me," Alya says, grabbing Marinette's arm. Marinette lets out a helpless squawk as Alya drags her away, ripping her hand out of Adrien's. She stretches her hand back towards her partner in a silent plea for help, but Adrien just stares after them with a stunned look on his face. Nino walks up behind him, visibly laughing.

"Alya! Alya, wait!" Marinette protests, but it's pointless. Alya is way too excited and the easiest thing to do is go along for the ride; Marinette stops dragging her feet and falls into pace beside her friend, already knowing where they're heading. There's an old girl's bathroom in the basement that is an excellent place for exchanging secrets. She and Alya have used it often. It's also a great place for transforming, as it happens.

"You're dating Adrien now?" Alya bursts out the second they're inside. Her eyes are gleaming. "When? _How_?!"

"I told you I had a date with him," Marinette says. It was pretty unavoidable information after the whole 'mon chou' thing. 

"Uh, you said he asked you out and you said yes," Alya says, planting her hands on her hips. "And you totally made it sound like you were only going out with him as friend. That kiss to the hand was not something that friends do!"

"What do you want me to say? Adrien is… he's really sweet. He's kind of a huge dork, but he's also real. I can tell him anything and he'll understand. And he always knows what to say to make me feel better." Marinette thinks about their dinner last night, and how earnest Adrien was, and wishes they could've stayed in that moment forever. "I always thought he was a flirt, but he's really not. He's so brash and over-the-top charming but he really _means_ it, you know?"

"Oh my god," Alya says.

Marinette looks at her. "What?"

"You're in love with him," Alya says.

"What?! I - that's not - I didn't say that!" Marinetter stammers. She can't deny it because it's true, but still!

"Holy shit. You're totally in love with him after one date!"

"I... well... I..." Marinette claps a hand over her mouth to stop herself. What can she say to that? She is in love with Adrien, but it wasn't just one date. It's been dozens of nights, hundreds of fights, and a sweet kitty who wears his heart on his sleeve and looks at her like she’s his whole world.

"Wow," Alya says, more to herself than Marinette. " _Wow_ , I never thought I'd see the day my little Mari would fall head over heels. You seemed determined to remain single forever."

Marinette scowls. "I was not determined to remain single, thank you very much."

"It sure seemed like it. And here I thought Adrien was just a friend." Alya shoots her a sly smile. "My my, how quickly that changed."

"It's complicated," Marinette says, folding her arms across her chest and blushing. "We've been spending a lot of time together working on our designs and I guess we just... clicked."

"And then you had to go and confess, ruining my dramatic catwalk confession."

In spite of herself, Marinette laughs. "Alya, there was never going to be a dramatic catwalk confession! That is totally something that came from your brain. Adrien wouldn't do that." She knows now that would be the last thing Adrien would do.

"I have my doubts," Alya says. "So, tell me everything! Where did you go? What did you eat? How did he ask you to be his girlfriend? Did you say yes right away, or did you have to think about it? Did he kiss you?"

"Oh my god," Marinette says, shaking her head. "We went to _La Belle Lumière_. It was Adrien's treat. And for the record, I kissed him."

Alya looks so gobsmacked by that bit of information that she seems to forget about the other two questions, which is exactly what Marinette wants. Because truthfully, Adrien didn't exactly ask her to be his girlfriend. She would have said yes had he asked, of course, but she wants to make sure they've got some kind of story straight just in case Nino asks the same question. The last thing they need is Alya and Nino comparing notes and then finding some holes in their story. Alya is like a dog with a bone when she sinks her teeth into something.

" _You_ kissed _him_?" Alya eventually repeats in a disbelieving tone.

"That's right. What do you think of that?"

"I think I've never been so proud in my entire life! How did you do it?"

Marinette giggles, pressing her hands against her warm cheeks. "Umm... he was just, the whole date had been a surprise. He said something really romantic, and I just couldn't help myself..." Her pulse quickens as she remembers Adrien's confession. A promise ring. He wanted to buy her a _promise ring_. It says so much about their future that she wants to squeal every time she thinks about it. Maybe all those dreams she had about Chat and their three kids and a house weren't so ridiculous after all.

"How did you do it? Details, girl!" Alya grabs her by the shoulders.

"Okay, okay! He wasn't expecting it, I don't think. I just kinda grabbed him by his collar and yanked him in and planted one on him."

Alya looks impressed. "Look at you! How did he respond?"

"He was shocked, but then he kinda... melted into me." Marinette sighs dreamily. "He put his hands on my hips..." She touches her hips, remembering how his hands felt. "Then the second time we kissed, it was like he realized he could touch me. He wrapped one arm around my back and put the other hand in my hair. I felt that kiss all the way down to my toes, Alya, no word of a lie."

"Wow," Alya breathes. "Wait, just how many kisses were there?"

"Uh... a lot?"

"Shit, that is so romantic," Alya says with a sigh. "I'm so happy for you, Marinette. Though I have to admit, I always thought I'd be the first one between us to find a serious boyfriend."

"So did I. If you'd just open your eyes and _look right in front of you_ -"

"Wow, was that the bell? We gotta get to class!" Alya exclaims, making a mad dash towards the door. Marinette watches her go, rolling her eyes.

"Apparently if I want to avoid talking about Adrien with Alya in the future, all I need to do is mention Nino," she says dryly.

Tikki giggles and pokes her head out of the purse. "Technically, you didn't even need to actually mention him."

"Right?" Marinette shakes her head and then freezes when the bell actually does ring. "Ah, crap! Hide, Tikki!"

She makes it to class with a few precious minutes to spare, and is just in time to see Adrien getting a ton of compliments on the brand new jacket he's wearing. Marinette comes to an abrupt stop, staring at him in surprise. He definitely wasn't wearing the jacket when he got out of the car this morning, and she realizes that he must've stored it in his bag to put on when he got into the school. Probably to keep his father from seeing it. It warms her all over to see him wearing it with such pride, even pointing out the ladybug detailing to Juleka when she misses it.

He glances up, as though sensing Marinette's presence, and grins at her. Without even thinking about it she smiles back, and then has to do endure several seconds of Alya sending her knowing smirks and Nino wiggling his eyebrows at her. Which is fine, because she's used to her dorky friends, but what's not so fine is the absolutely poisonous glare Chloé is sending her from the front row. Marinette's smile fades as she meets Chloé's stare. She's pretty sure they're going to be having words at some point, and she's not looking forward to it.

That's why, the second the bell rings to let them out for the day, Marinette is on her feet and out the door. She and Adrien were able to spend lunch together, albeit with Alya, Nino and most of their classmates since several of them wanted to hear details about their date, but Adrien's got a last minute photo shoot that his father wants him to attend. He seems to think that it's a way for his father to keep them apart tonight, and Marinette has to admit that it's not a bad way of doing it - if she and Adrien were normal teenagers, of course. Gabriel Agreste remains utterly oblivious to the fact that at just after 11pm, a certain feline superhero crawls through her window.

He falls down into the bed beside her, already purring, and rubs his cheek against her collarbone as she giggles. "Mm, Princess, you smell like cookies," he rumbles.

"I've been baking," she says, reaching up and pushing her fingers into his hair to coax more purrs out.

"Baking? Can I have some?"

"Not tonight. They're treats for tomorrow."

Chat deflates, a familiar pout crossing his face. "But I want some nooooow."

"Sorry, _Chaton_. You're gonna have to wait. Think of them as a reward for getting through supper with your father."

"Ugh, now I really need a cookie," he groans, flopping down on top of her. She squeaks at the sudden weight, but honestly he's not that heavy and she's pretty used to him climbing all over her. He used to get like this a lot before she started giving him regular pets and cuddles.

"Maybe it won't be that bad," Marinette says optimistically, laying her hands over his head. 

"You don't know my father."

No, she doesn't. She only knows the terrible things Chat has told her. Marinette bites her lip. She hates Gabriel and she hasn’t even met him yet, and nothing about tomorrow is ever going to change that. How could she like someone who hurts her partner the way that Gabriel does? The best she can do is try to make sure that Gabriel likes her, so that Adrien’s life won’t become more complicated – or worse.

She might actually have to murder Gabriel Agreste if he hits Adrien because of her.

“Okay, it will be that bad,” she says, slowly petting him. “But I’ll be there with you this time. That’s gotta count for something, right?”

“It means that he’ll be on his best behavior while you’re there, at least. He always is with company. Can’t risk ruining his reputation.” Chat sounds at once bitter and resigned, and it breaks her heart. She gently pulls his head up, leaning in so that they’re so close their noses brush together.

“I love you. Someday soon you won’t have to live with him, Adrien. We’ll move out together as soon as we graduate.”

“Really?” Chat sits up slightly, staring at her intently.

“Yes. I hate the thought of you living there with him. The thought of him touching you makes me sick.” She cups his face, his dear face. “If I could make it happen tomorrow, I would.”

“I know. I love you too.” He closes the distance between them, kissing her softly, then pulls back and lays down on her. She wraps her arms around him and stares at the ceiling. She can see the sky through her skylight.

At some point, Chat’s transformation undoes itself. Adrien doesn’t move, and she knows he’s sleeping. Plagg appears, yawning, and nods at her when he sees that she’s still awake. Marinette tries to smile back, though she’s probably not very successful. She watches as Plagg drifts over to Tikki’s cocoon, pushes the fabric opening aside, and diappears inside. The fabric is pulled back across then. Marinette sighs, closes her eyes, and tries to sleep.


	16. Chapter 16

Eventually, Marinette falls asleep and wakes up to the sound of her alarm some hours later. Adrien grumbles against her and Marinette smiles for real this time; his arms are wound around her thighs and his head is pillowed on her breasts. His nose is scrunched up and he looks for all the world like a grumpy kitty. Normally he’s a morning person, she knows, so he must be feeling extra sleepy to be this reluctant to get up. 

Or maybe he’s just slept really well. She hopes that it’s that. Adrien deserves it. She wishes that they could go back to sleep for a while, but if she doesn’t get up for school her parents will come up to figure out why. And they really don’t need Marinette’s maman or papa catching them in bed together. That would spell disaster, and be the end of Adrien’s night-time visits. So she nudges him gently.

“I need to get up, _mon minou_ ,” she murmurs. “You can stay and sleep and meet me downstairs? I’ll have breakfast.”

“Okay,” Adrien mumbles.

She pokes him. “Bring Tikki and Plagg with you.”

“Hmm.”

Taking that as a yes, Marinette regretfully squirms out of his grip and half-falls down the ladder. She’s grateful that it’s Friday, because it means she and Adrien will actually be able to sleep in a little bit tomorrow. She’ll have to make sure that her parents don’t need her to help in the bakery tomorrow morning. Sometimes they spring that on her at the last minute.

After taking a quick peek to make sure that Adrien is really and truly asleep – he is, passed out with his head facing the wall, mouth open so that he’s drooling on her sheets – she gets changed for school. She’ll be going over to Adrien’s right after, so she opts for a dress instead of her usual capris and shirt. This one is a cute pink sundress her maman bought her a couple years ago, with a white flower pattern on the full skirt. Tempting as it is to wear something she made herself, she knows better. Gabriel can’t know she designs.

She ties her hair into her pigtails, slides on some sandals, and loops her purse over her chest. Then she pokes Adrien again until he swats her away. Giggling, Marinette opens the trap door and hurries down the stairs. Today her papa is in the kitchen, taking a rare break from the bakery. He’s already dusted with flour and bits of pastry dough, so Marinette keeps her distance.

“Remember, Papa, I’m going to Adrien’s after school to have dinner with his father,” Marinette says. “I won’t be home until later.”

“I remember. Do you have something to bring with you?” Papa asks.

Marinette hesitates. “Uh, no. Am I supposed to?”

He comes over, giving her a careful kiss on her head. “Can you drop in after school before you go over? I’ll bake a cake for you. It’s polite to bring something, and I know you want to make a good first impression.”

“I’m sure I can. Thanks, Papa.” Marinette breathes a quiet sigh of relief. She didn’t even think about bringing something, but she supposes that is the thing to do when you’re visiting your boyfriend’s home for the first time. Thank goodness for her papa.

“No problem, _Ma Belle_. I want this to go well as much as you do. Maybe some night, we can have Monsieur Agreste and Adrien over for dinner.”

“Maybe, but Monsieur Agreste’s schedule is pretty busy,” Marinette says carefully. If she has her way, her parents will never have to meet Gabriel. 

“Well, I’m sure he’ll make time,” Papa says cheerfully. “There’s fruit and fresh bread, if you want breakfast.”

“I’ll take some. Do we have any bottles of juice?”

“No, sorry.”

“That’s okay. Salut, Papa.” She waves at him as he goes back downstairs to the bakery, and quickly grabs some fruit, cheese and bread for hers and Adrien’s breakfast. She knows Adrien likes coffee in the morning – Chat’s told her that often enough by now – and there’s a café they can run to if he’s desperate.

She hurries downstairs, says a quick goodbye to her maman, and heads out the door. Immediately, she sees Adrien waiting for her beneath a tree across the street. He’s yawning widely, covering his mouth with one hand and rubbing at the back of his head with the other, and her heart skips a beat. The sunlight falling through the leaves makes his blond hair shine. It’s really unfair how the most mundane stuff can make him look amazingly attractive.

“Hey,” he says as she gets close. 

“Hi. I have breakfast. I thought we could get drinks to go with it. We’ve got a couple minutes.”

“Coffee?” Adrien perks up, squinting at her.

“Yes, coffee,” Marinette says, smiling. She’s not crazy about coffee, but if she’s tired enough from akuma attacks she will resort to drinking it. Since she’s not too bad off this morning, she opts for fruit juice. Adrien gets some coffee loaded with whipped cream, caramel sauce and a sprinkle of cinnamon.

They eat breakfast sitting on the front steps of Collège Françoise Dupont, both of them studiously not mentioning the elephant in the room. Marinette finishes her bread and leans against Adrien’s shoulder as she sips her juice, thinking about dinner tonight. Wondering if Gabriel will be welcoming, or if he’ll try to chase her away. If he’s smart, he won’t. Just the thought of it makes her want to dig in her heels already.

“You’re wearing your bracelet,” Adrien says suddenly, looking down at her arm.

Marinette looks down too. It’s visible because of the short sleeves of her dress. The diamond on the ring charm is sparkling in the light, and even the green and red gems are shining. She should probably be wearing a jacket or a cardigan, but today she doesn’t want to. Adrien bought her something beautiful and she damn well wants to show it off. 

“I want everyone to see it,” she says, twisting her arm to better admire how the light plays off it. “I love it.”

“I’m glad. I must’ve looked at dozens of different necklaces and bracelets, trying to find the right one. The saleswoman finally suggested a charm bracelet because that way it can be customized.”

“And you picked the perfect charms.” Marinette fingers the rose and leans into him again. He’s wearing his jacket again. He wraps an arm around her shoulder, resting his head against hers. They’re both quiet for a long time.

"You two are acting like someone died," Plagg says, startling Adrien badly enough that he drops his coffee. It narrowly misses Marinette's skirt and ends up on the ground. Adrien stares at the small puddle with an expression of profound dismay before turning a glare onto Plagg.

"What are you doing? Someone could hear you!" he hisses through gritted teeth. There are a fair amount of students in the courtyard now. None of them are paying any attention to Marinette and Adrien, but you never know. 

Plagg's tiny head pokes out of the inner pocket of Adrien's jacket, and he scoffs at them. "Tikki and I are going to be there," he says to Marinette. "The kid's made me keep quiet so far, but I've just about had enough of it. If that asshole tries anything tonight, I'm gonna Cataclysm him so hard that there won't be anything left but dust on the wind."

"Plagg!" Adrien says, sounding slightly horrified. "That's my father."

"Your father who sucks," Plagg says.

"He's not wrong, but I'm sure it won't come to that," Marinette says in an attempt to keep the peace. It's actually comforting to know that their kwamis will be with them tonight, and that they'll be prepared to intervene. She can't imagine Gabriel is actually going to do anything, but even knowing what he's capable of makes her stomach churn. She almost forgot that she and Adrien weren't heading into this alone.

"Marinette! Adrien!"

"Shit," Adrien hisses, quickly zipping his jacket up and muffling Plagg's complaints. Alya runs over to them.

"You're here so early," Alya says, looking at Marinette. "Adrien's been a good influence on you."

"Good morning to you too," Marinette says wryly, and Alya grins.

"We have five minutes before school starts. Anyone want to give some last minute wisdom for the physics test?"

Marinette's head shoots up. "Physics test?!"

What follows is a day at school that simultaneously speeds by and drags. The test does not go well, and Marinette fervently hopes that she's passed. Otherwise, it'll mean having to get her test signed by her parents and she can't stand the disappointed looks they give her when she's not doing well at school. She tries to put the test out of her mind, but then she ends up dwelling on the dinner tonight. She doesn't eat much at lunch, and ends up surreptitiously slipping Tikki and Plagg the pastries and cheese from her lunch and giving the rest of it to Adrien. 

When the bell rings at the end of the day, Alya leans over to Marinette. "Good luck. Meeting the parents, that's a big deal. But you're gonna rock it."

"I hope so," Marinette says weakly. She feels like she might throw up. Her hands are actually shaking as she puts her books and pencil into her backpack.

"Hey, you'll be fine. What's not to love about you?"

"It's not that easy, Alya." There’s so much that Marinette can’t explain, and it’s frustrating. She feels like no one understands how momentous this is. Yet at the same time, she’s grateful that no one gets it because otherwise she wouldn’t be going. If someone did know, then Adrien wouldn’t have to suffer through it – but if someone knew, he might get taken away or be unable to be Chat Noir, and that would be the worst thing in the world for Adrien. It’s a conflicting set of emotions.

"Sure it is. You're my girl." Alya wraps an arm around her, giving Marinette a one-sided hug. "I know you can do this."

Alya's kind words help. Marinette smiles at her. "Thanks."

"Besides," Alya goes on, "you and Adrien are gonna be married at like eighteen, so it doesn't really matter what his dad thinks. That’s only two years away and you can sneak around between now and then if you have to."

"A-Alya!" Marinette squeaks. "Th-that's not - don't say things like that!"

"Say things like what?" Adrien asks, turning around to look at them curiously.

"N-nothing!" Marinette says quickly. "Come on. Papa told me to stop the bakery before we went to your house. He's baking a cake for us." She knows she’s bright red, and she can see Alya laughing out of the corner of her eye. It’s so very tempting to kick her friend in the leg, but she refrains because then Adrien’s curiosity will go through the roof and he’ll want to know and she never wants him to know what Alya just said.

"Really?" Adrien's eyes light up. "What are you waiting for? Let's go!" He grabs Marinette's hand and pulls her up out of her seat. Alya and Nino laugh as Marinette is literally dragged out of the classroom.

The car is waiting for them at the curb. Adrien walks over to speak with the driver while Marinette hurries home. Her maman waves when she walks in and motions her towards a box on the counter. Marinette moves over to carefully pick it up. She can't resist lifting the lid to take a peek inside. Her stomach growls when she catches sight of the artfully decorated Charlotte, surrounded by her maman's chocolate ladyfingers and a strawberry mousse. The top is covered with sliced, chocolate-dipped strawberries and grated dark chocolate curls.

"Thanks Maman," she calls, but she's not even sure her maman hears her over the general bustle of the bakery. With as much caution as a clumsy sixteen-year-old girl is capable of, Marinette slips out the door and makes her way back to Adrien.

"What is it?" Adrien asks as she approaches.

"You'll have to wait and see," Marinette replies with a wink, sliding into the car. She balances the cake box on her lap so that she can reach for Adrien's hand, holding it tightly. He takes a deep breath and squeezes her hand back, looking as nervous as she feels.

When they get to the Agreste mansion, which is a short enough drive that she fully understands why Adrien prefers to walk, their driver gets out and opens the door for them. Her heart thuds as they climb the stairs. Adrien opens the door, and their eyes meet. She sees the apprehension he's feeling, and she wishes they had a few minutes to take a run across the rooftops. That always calms them both down. 

"Adrien."

Marinette stiffens, turning her head. Gabriel Agreste is standing at the top of the stairs, dressed in an impeccably cut light grey suit. With his hands linked behind his mask, she gets the feeling that he's not unlike a king surveying his subjects from his throne. Strangely, instead of making her feel more nervous, she starts to calm down. This may be Gabriel's mansion, but this is not his city. He's not a king; he's just a man. A man who she's already formed an opinion of. 

"Hello, Père," Adrien says stiffly. "This is my girlfriend, Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Marinette, my father, Gabriel Agreste."

"Hello, Sir," Marinette says.

Gabriel slowly walks down the stairs towards them. He doesn't speak, the only sound the thudding of his polished shoes on the stairs, until he is standing directly in front of her. "A pleasure," he says, though he doesn't smile.

He also doesn't offer her his hand. Marinette's grateful. It's probably because she's holding the cake box with both hands, but honestly it's just as well: she doesn't think she could bear to touch him. Not after knowing what his hands have done, the pain they've caused the boy standing tensely beside her. She has to force herself to look away from Gabriel's hands (manicured, she can't help but notice, and soft, with fingers that clearly have not touched a sewing needle in years, if ever. How did she ever idolize this man?) to meet his stern gaze.

"I brought a cake as a thank you for having me for dinner," Marinette says, indicating the box with an incline of her head.

"Thank you. Adrien can show you to the kitchen," Gabriel says. "Dinner will be served at the normal time, Adrien. I trust you will make sure that you and Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng are there on time."

"Yes, Père, we'll be there. We're going to work on our homework," Adrien says.

"Very well. Make sure your door remains open."

Adrien's cheeks turn pink. "Yes Père."

Neither of them moves as Gabriel turns and walks away. Marinette only breathes again when she hears a door open and close in the distance. "Well," she says, "he didn't kick me out, so that's something."

"He likes you," Adrien says.

"How can you tell?"

"Believe me, you would know if he didn't." There's something bitter about Adrien's half-smile. "Come on. We'll go drop your cake off and then we'll go up to my room. It'll be another couple of hours until dinner is ready. Are you hungry?"

"I could have a snack," Marinette says. Now that the initial meeting is over, her stomach is reminding her that she ate very little at lunch.

"Follow me," Adrien says, leading her in the opposite direction of where his father went. He whisks the box from her hands and disappears through a set of double doors. Marinette catches a glimpse of an enormous kitchen that would make her papa drool before the door swings shut behind him. Left along in the hallway, she exhales shakily and leans back against the wall.

"How are you doing?" Tikki whispers, peeking out of her purse.

"I feel shaky," Marinette admits, clasping both hands over her chest. She can feel how hard her heart is beating, pounding against her ribcage. "He's scary, Tikki."

"You're not in any danger, Marinette. I wouldn't let him hurt you."

"It's not me I'm worried about. It's Adrien," Marinette whispers back. "He has to stay here when I leave tonight. If I say or do the wrong thing, it might get taken out on Adrien. I couldn't bear that."

Tikki looks worried. She's quiet for a moment, obviously trying to think of something to say, and finally says, "It'll be okay."

"You don't know that," Marinette says, frustrated. She knows Tikki is just trying to help, and she does appreciate the words of reassurance, paltry though they may be. She just knows from her conversations with Chat that his father is never reasonable about hitting him. It can come out of no where. Sometimes whole months can pass by with nothing at all, and sometimes he showed up to every patrol with a new bruise, or a handprint on his arm, or a sore limb. Even if Gabriel did hurt Adrien tonight, she knows that it's not necessarily about her.

But it's hard to _believe_ it.

The kitchen doors re-opens and Adrien comes out holding a container. "Come on, this way," he says.

She follows him upstairs and down a long hallway to the very end. His room is a welcoming sight, especially because, in defiance of his father's words, he closes and locks the door behind them. Marinette opens up her purse to let Tikki out and then looks around, taking in the room with a little more clarity than when she was last here. The room looks kind of like it's been taken out of a teen movie, like it's an idealized version of a teenager's bedroom. Like Gabriel, or someone who works for him, did some research on what teenaged boys like to do and threw the room together based on that.

Because she can't help thinking that it seems so strange that there are no sketchbooks filled with designs, no bolts of fabric, no sewing needles, no nothing to indicate the passion that Adrien enjoys just as much as she does. There's nothng about Ladybug or Chat Noir, and she knows for a fact that Adrien's the kind of person to have some merchandise. There are no sci-fi or fantasy books. There are no anime DVDs or mangas. There are no pictures on the walls, no cat decorations, _nothing_ to indicate that Adrien Agreste actually lives here.

"It kinda sucks, doesn't it?" Adrien says from behind her.

Marinette turns to look at him. "It's okay."

He moves closer, wrapping his arms around her. "I like your bedroom a lot more. It feels like home."

Oh. She hugs him back tightly. "It is your home, _Chaton_ , anytime you want it to be," she murmurs.

"I know." Adrien lets go. "Our chef gave me some crackers and cheese. They all think I'm obsessed with cheese." He sighs a bit, cracking open the container.

"I'm sorry," Marinette says, trying not to laugh. "I'm just so grateful I ended up with the kwami who likes sweets. Tikki is easy for me to feed, though my parents do tend to think that I eat my weight in cookies sometimes." She takes a cracker and bites into it, realizing that it's home-made. It's spicier than she anticipated and she picks up a piece of cheese to go with it.

"You're lucky. You don't know how lucky," Adrien says with a dramatic sigh, rolling his eyes. "They'll order Camembert for me, but only so much. A lot of my allowance goes into feeding the little piggy over there."

"I resent that," Plagg says from where he's draped over the pillow on Adrien's bed. It's a big bed for such a little kwami. 

"You can resent it all you want, I'm sure it's true," Tikki says wryly, flying over to join him. 

"I probably couldn't afford to keep Plagg in cheese," Marinette admits.

"Hey, I've had Chosen who were a lot worse off than you, Bug," Plagg says. "The kid can afford to get me the good stuff."

"The kid is gonna start buying you sliced cheese," Adrien mutters, taking a cracker for himself. Marinette notices that he studiously avoids the cheese and smiles to herself, moving over to take a closer look at his DDR game. It’s the most advanced one on the market.

“Can we play?” she asks, glancing over at Adrien.

“Sure, but I should warn you, I’m awesome.”

“You might be, but I’m the queen of video games,” Marinette says, kicking her shoes off.

They challenge each other at first, competing for better scores. Adrien wins, though Marinette maintains that it’s only because he has a DDR game in his room and can practice anytime he wants – she doesn’t exactly get a lot of time to hang out at the arcade to practice herself. She does a couple rounds by herself while Adrien watches, but gets bored pretty quickly.

“Wanna play something else?” Adrien asks.

“What’cha got?”

By response, he shows her the stash of video games in his closet. Marinette squeals when she gets her hands on a copy of Ultimate Mecha Strike V, which isn’t due out on the market for another six weeks. The smug grin on Adrien’s face doesn’t deter her in the slightest; it’s obvious that he thinks he’s going to win at this one too, but this time he’s got another thought coming. There’s a reason Marinette is the queen of the video games, and of _this_ video game in particular. 

She scurries over to the couch and takes a seat, reaching for the controller with a greedy smile. A thrill of excitement rolls through her as Adrien plugs the console in and puts the game in. She stares at the television screen with wide eyes as the opening music plays. Her papa is going to be so jealous when he hears that she actually got the chance to play this already. They’ve been talking about it for weeks.

The game launches, and Marinette cackles. “Oh my god, it’s true! There’s a Ladybug character!”

“And a Chat character,” Adrien says, trying and failing to hide his smile. The two characters on the screen do bear a passing ressemblance to them, though the Ladybug character has brown eyes and is easily five or six inches taller than Marinette. Meanwhile, the Chat character has furry ears and a tail, and hair long enough to be tied in a low ponytail.

“This is amazing,” Marinette says fervently. “I want to play as Chat.”

“Fair, I’ll be Ladybug.”

They choose their characters. Marinette squirms with excitement as the screen loads. The instant the countdown times out, she launches her Chat forward and then fight _is on_. It only takes Marinette four minutes and thirty-five seconds to solidly kick Adrien’s ass. His mouth hangs open as the screen declares Chat the winner, and the Chat character starts doing a supremely dorky dance around the screen. Marinette is totally amused to see that the dance moves are actually true to the original.

“Told you,” Marinette says, smirking as she turns to her partner.

Adrien narrows his eyes at her. “It’s on, My Lady. Rematch.”

She loses track of time as they fight first each other for several rounds, and then move on to the part of the game where you can team up and fight against the other characters. The animation is smoother than she’s used to, and she loves how responsive the controller is beneath her hands. The Chat character has the ability to transform his baton into an actual sword, whereas the Ladybug character has the ability to form her yoyo into a shield. They’re obviously made to be partners.

Just like in real life.

But that doesn’t stop her from kicking his ass all over again.

“Yes!” Marinette bursts out, whooping as their scores roll up on screen. She leaps up on the couch and starts shaking her hips, matching Chat’s dance. “I win, Agreste! Suck on that!”

“Excuse me.” The words, accompanied by a loudly cleared throat, freeze Marinette mid-dance. She looks over with horror to see a slender woman standing in the doorway, holding a tablet. The woman looks them over, taking in Marinette’s mortified expression, and smiles.

“Hi Nathalie,” Adrien says, scrambling to his feet.

“Your father sent me to remind you about dinner,” Nathalie says.

“Oh. Oh, right! We’re coming,” Adrien says hastily. “We’ll be right down.”

“Thank you,” Nathalie says, stepping back and partially closing the door.

“Oh my god, you could’ve said she was there!” Marinette hisses, swatting at Adrien.

He dodges the blows, laughing. “Princess, you over-estimate my hearing abilities outside the suit. You know I can hear better than the average person, but Nathalie is like a ninja. My father probably sent her up here to make sure we weren’t doing we weren’t supposed to be.”

“I almost wish she had rather than catch me dancing,” Marinette mutters, still embarrassed. 

“Is that so? Well, we can make up for lost time if you like,” Adrien purrs, moving closer to her. He sets his hands on her hips, looking up at her with a sexy smile that makes Marinette’s breath catch and certain parts of her feel very warm. She lays her hands on his shoulders, gazing down at her. It’s strange to be the one looking down, but Marinette realizes that she kind of likes it. She smiles, brushing few stray hairs out of his green eyes.

“I do believe that the loser owes the winner a kiss,” she agrees.

Adrien grins. “Never let it be said I don’t own my losses.” 

He leans up as Marinette leans down. Their lips brush, chastely at first, then more firmly. It feels so good, sending a rush of tingles down her spine every time they kiss. She wants to stand there and kiss him forever. She slides her hand into his hair, cupping the back of his head and angling his head up slightly so that she can kiss him deeper. Adrien’s lips part beneath hers, and a tentative swipe of his tongue across her bottom lip makes her gasp softly. She immediately decides that she likes it and is planning to experiment when – 

“Marinette. Nathalie will come back up here!” Tikki says in her ear.

Marinette groans, breaking the kiss to glare at her kwami. “You couldn’t have waited a couple more minutes? Really?”

Tikki glares back. “You want to make a good impression or not?”

“She’s right,” Adrien says reluctantly, sliding an arm around Marinette’s waist and effortlessly lifting her off the couch. He sets her down on the floor and presses one last kiss to the corner of her mouth.

“Spoilsport,” Marinette mumbles, even though Tikki really is right. She opens up her purse and waves her kwami inside it. Plagg streaks over to join Tikki inside. Marinette carefully snaps it closed and then holds her hand out for Adrien to take. He does, and they walk out of the room together.


	17. Chapter 17

Gabriel is waiting for them in the dining room, already seated at the head of the table. Marinette is displeased to see that she and Adrien are on opposite sides of the table: Adrien to Gabriel’s right, and Marinette to Gabriel’s left. She would much rather sit right beside Adrien. But it doesn’t seem like something that’s worth bringing up right now. Not when they’re obviously a little late.

“Sorry, Père,” Adrien says immediately. “We were playing video games and I forgot the time.” 

“I thought you were going to work on your homework,” Gabriel says.

“It was my fault, Sir,” Marinette says, because she just _knows_ that Adrien is all set to take the blame. “Adrien has the latest version of a video game that I enjoy very much. I asked him if we could play it.”

There’s something sharp in Gabriel’s eyes when he looks at her, but all he says is, “Please sit. I have an appointment at 8pm that I can’t miss.”

Marinette moves to the other side of the table and sits. A well dressed woman in a uniform emerges from a door in the corner, carrying a tray of plates. She sets down a plate of coq au vin, along with a bowl of soupe à l’oignon. An identical meal is laid out in front of Adrien and Gabriel. The food looks delicious, though she can’t help noticing how small the portions are.

No wonder Adrien always looks so skinny, she thinks, if this is what he’s eating. There’s barely enough on her plate to fill Manon, much less a teenager who regularly parkours around Paris. She suddenly feels like she shouldn’t have brought the Charlotte after all, but hidden it away until she and Adrien got the chance to eat it themselves. With Tikki’s help, of course.

“Thank you for inviting me to dinner,” Marinette says, when the quiet clink of cutlery has gotten on her nerves. Do all their meals happen in such complete silence? Her family dinners are always filled with lively chatter because her parents always want to know all about her day.

“I wanted to meet you,” Gabriel says, setting down his fork and dabbing at his mouth with his napkin. “I’m sure you can imagine that I was not pleased to learn of your existence through that photograph.”

Marinette takes a sip of her wine to soothe her dry throat. “Yes, I apologize for that. It was our first date,” she says, shooting a quick glance at Adrien. He’s tense, she can tell. “Neither of us were expecting anyone to be there taking a picture.”

“And therein lies the problem, Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng. As my son, Adrien is a public figure. He is well aware of everything that entails, but it seems that he has not explained what that means to you. If you intend to date my son, I will expect you behave with decorum at all times.” Gabriel stares her down, drying up any objections Marinette might voice. “I will not have my company’s reputation suffering because of a teenage dalliance.”

“Père,” Adrien says sharply. “Marinette would never do that, and this is more than a fling.”

Gabriel shakes his head. “The point, Adrien, is that it is very easy to do, even without intending to do so. The press are not your friends.”

“I know that,” Marinette says. She really does. She’s seen how fickle journalists can be. Whether or not they love Ladybug and Chat Noir tends to depend on how many people got hurt and how much property was damaged in the course of an akuma fight. Regardless of the fact that her Lucky Charm is capable of fixing everything, she and Chat have been slammed before for not having done more to prevent injuies or damages from happening.

Sometimes it makes Marinette want to scream. It’s _not that easy_.

“You may think you know that, I can assure you that you really don’t. So tell me, Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng, more about yourself. Adrien has been less than forthcoming with details.” Gabriel sets his hands in his lap, giving her his full, undivided attention. It’s nerve-wracking.

But then a light pressure against her hip reminds her that Tikki and Plagg are with her, and Adrien shoots her an encouraging look across the table. She’s not alone. Marinette draws strength from that and calls upon all of her Ladybug courage to keep her voice calm. 

“I’m sixteen and I attend Collège Françoise Dupont. I’m in Adrien’s class, which I’m sure you know,” she begins. “My parents own the Dupain-Cheng bakery. In my spare time, I help in the bakery a lot. I also like spending time with my friends, Alya Césaire and Nino Lafitte. I’m a pretty good student; my grades are good.”

“Do you plan to take over your parent’s bakery?” Gabriel asks.

“I’m considering it,” Marientte says carefully, which isn’t a lie. “I enjoy the pastry side of things more than the business side. My papa has taught me a lot about how to decorate cakes and pastries. He creates amazing works of art. But if I were to take over the bakery, I recognize that I would have to go to university to learn more about the business.”

Gabriel nods slightly. “A wise foresight on your part,” he says. “Do you have any interest in design?”

“I find it interesting to watch fashion shows, and sometimes I draw inspiration from outfits when I’m decorating pastries,” Marinette replies. “But that’s the extent of it. I can’t even sew in a straight line.” She cocks her head and smiles innocently, the same kind of smile she gives to the press when they’re demanding to know who Ladybug is.

“And do you have any interest in the money my son will inherit someday?”

“Père!” Adrien exclaims, leaping to his feet. 

“It’s okay,” Marinette says quickly. “Really, Adrien, it’s fine.” It’s _not_ fine, the question leaves a bitter taste on her tongue, but she answers anyway. “I care a lot about your son, Monsieur Agreate. You probably don’t believe me when I say that my feelings have nothing to do with whatever money may or may not go to Adrien someday.”

“An interesting response considering that he took you to one of the most expensive restaurants in Paris for your first day, and bought you jewelry,” Gabriel says, lowering his eyes meaningful to where Marinette’s charm bracelet is on stark display. She stares at it too, for the first time regretting her decision to put it on this morning. It would’ve been better left in her bedroom, but it’s too late now.

“It’s the restaurant where I used to go with Mére,” Adrien says. There’s a slight hiss to his words, not unlike the way Chat hisses when he’s pissed off. “I wanted to share it with Marinette. It had nothing to do with how expensive it was, and Marinette is not my girlfriend because of money!”

“Perhaps,” Gabriel says mildly. “My appointment is at hand, so I must leave you.” He rises, folding his napkin and setting it on the table. “Adrien, I am leaving for Italy tomorrow morning. I will be gone for three weeks. Nathalie will be staying here to watch over you. You will listen to whatever she says.”

Adrien looks blindsided. “I – what? You’re leaving?”

“Yes. My new collection is presenting soon, and I need to be there to make sure it happens flawlessly. Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng.”

Marinette snaps to attention. “Yes Sir?”

“I have no issues with you dating my son for the time being, on the provision that you agree to spend some time with my assistant, Nathalie. She will explain to you how to better compose yourself when you are with my son, including what to do when you are approached by a journalist. Should you disagree, I will have to ban Adrien from seeing you in any official or unofficial capacity. As I said, I will not have any scandals that may damage my company’s reputation.”

She has to bite her tongue to keep from asking whether the company is all Gabriel cares about. She’s pretty sure she already has the answer to that. Not once during this whole conversation has Gabriel asked anything that directly relates to the happiness of his son. He hasn’t even tried to get to know Marinette. All he wants to know is whether or not she’s dating Adrien for his money.

“I can agree to that,” Marinette says, and forces herself to add, “Thank you.”

Gabriel doesn’t even look at her. It’s like his attention slides away the instant she agrees to the rules he’s laid down. He moves away from the table and heads towards the door of the dining room. It’s only once he’s gone that Marinette, her eyes dropping to the table, realizes that he didn’t even stay for dessert. 

“Marinette, I’m so sorry,” Adrien says, but he sounds bewildered, like he’s not even wholly sure what he’s sorry for. The anger makes a resurgence, blotting out the hurt and worry. Marinette gets to her feet and stalks around the table, stopping right in front of him.

"Do not apologize to me," she says forcefully. "It's not your fault that your father is an asshole in more ways than one. The only thing I want from you right now is for you to go to the kitchen and get the dessert that I brought. We're going to take it back to my house and eat the whole thing, along with the cookies I made last night and some popcorn. We're going to watch trashy anime and movies and not sleep until dawn. And we're going to forget all about your _stupid father_. Is that clear?"

Adrien stares at her for a long moment, then visibly swallows. "Clear," he says in a husky voice. "You're really sexy when you're mad, My Lady. Have I ever told you that?"

"No, you didn't," Marinette says, opening her arms. He comes to her gladly, hugging her so tightly that it leaves her breathless. She hugs him back, running her fingers through his hair comfortingly. 

"He's an idiot," Adrien says quietly, more to himself than to her. It almost sounds like he's trying to convince himself, and her heart breaks for her poor kitty. She knows that this night was about more than just getting Gabriel's permission for them to date. Adrien may not even realize it, but he genuinely wanted Gabriel to take an interest in this. He wanted Gabriel to be interested in learning about Marinette, and by extension take an actual interest in his son as more than a commodity that can reflect poorly on that stupid company.

"He is," Marinette says, just as quietly, wishing that she could be more, that she could help, that she could be what Adrien needs. But she can't help with this. 

"He thought that you were just with me for my money." There's a thread of anger in Adrien's voice, growing stronger with each word. "All he cared about was that you'd look good in public and that you weren't interested in design, so that he wouldn't have to worry about you encouraging me. Why the hell does it matter so much whether I'm interested in design?!"

"Maybe he's jealous of you," Marinette says.

Adrien pulls back to stare again. "What?"

"You're really good at what you do, Adrien. Your designs are beautiful. They make me smile. I've never seen anything like them. Maybe your dad is threatened by that. You could really take the fashion world by storm if you wanted to."

"I'm not that good," Adrien says awkwardly.

"Maybe not yet, but you could be. If you had the proper training. The kind of training we're both trying to get." She takes his hand, pulling it to her lips. She kisses his knuckles, the way Chat has so often kissed hers. "All fashion designers have that moment where their designs are no longer current or relevant. That's when newer, younger designers come on scene and take over. I bet he hates the thought of handing the reins over."

"I don't think that's it," Adrien says, but he sounds thoughtful now as opposed to just angry. 

"It's the theory that makes the most sense to me. He can't want you to stay away from fashion period, because he tried to get you to be a model. And he's still involving you in the world through photography." Marinette shrugs. "Or maybe he's just a jackass who gets off on hurting the only person who loves him, who knows. The point is, for the next three weeks we don't have to worry about him and I really want to celebrate." She's not kidding. The thought of a solid twenty-one days where Gabriel will be in another country and can't hurt Adrien is a weight off her shoulders. 

Adrien cracks a smile, but it's clear he's still thinking through what she said. Marinette squeezes his hand, then leans in and kisses him on the mouth. That draws his attention back to her, and his free hand comes up to cup her cheek as they kiss. 

"Come to me tonight," she breathes against his lips.

"I will. As soon as I can. With the cake."

Marinette nods, kisses him again, and then passes him Plagg from her purse. Adrien escorts her to the front door, and she slips out before anyone can try to call a car for her. The last thing she wants is to sit through an awkward car drive with someone who works for Gabriel. Besides, she has a much faster way of getting home. She walks out onto the sidewalk and down the street, then darts into an alley. After a quick glance around to make sure that no one is paying any attention, she transforms into Ladybug and uses her yoyo to propel herself to the top of the building beside her. The cool night air feels wonderfully refreshing after the stifling dinner.

"Who does that man think he is? It's like he doesn't even see Adrien as human," she mutters under her breath, leaping from rooftop to rooftop. It helps to work off some of her aggression, until she no longer feels like going back to the Agreste mansion just to roundhouse kick Gabriel in the face. She still would, of course, she'd happily take down anyone who dares to hurt her partner, much less the man who consistently hurts her partner on a regular basis. But the urge is a little easier to suppress now.

She lands outside the bakery and detransforms in a shower of red sparkles. Marinette takes a moment to smooth down her hair into a state that's slightly more presentable and walks inside. 

"Hi Maman," she says.

"Marinette! You're home! I didn't see the car drive up," Maman says, peering past her through the window.

"I stood outside for a couple minutes. I needed some fresh air," Marinette says, locking the door behind her and flipping the sign to Closed. It's still a couple minutes before closing, but she doubts they're going to get any more customers this late. 

"Did dinner not go well?" Maman looks at her worriedly. Marinette looks back at her. If she's going to tell her parents anything, now is the time. No sooner does the thought pass through her mind than Marinette dismisses it. They don't need to know. She's going to do everything she can to make sure her parents never have to meet Gabriel anyway, so what difference does it make?

"It went fine. Monsieur Agreste had an appointment he had to rush to, though. I actually only saw him for a few minutes." 

"That's too bad," Maman says, pulling open the cash register to start her end of day count. "Did he enjoy the cake?"

"Yeah, he loved it," Marinette says softly. That beautiful cake that her papa probably poured a good few hours into. Untouched and forgotten on the Agreste kitchen counters. She turns away from her maman to grab the broom, just so that she can have a few seconds to compose her face before her anger gets the better of her. As kind as her papa's actions were, she kind of wishes now that he hadn't bothered. His time would've been better spent elsewhere.

She spends the next hour helping her maman to close down the bakery, wiping the counters, sweeping the floor, washing the windows. She sets aside the remaining food to be taken to the shelter two blocks over in the morning and then wipes down and sanitizes the insides of the displays. She puts the serving utensils and dishes in the bin to be cleaned. Her maman finishes with the register and joins her. The work goes faster then, with the two of them working together.

“Do you and Papa need help in the kitchen?” Marinette asks.

“No, _ma chérie_. You’ve done enough, and I bet you haven’t even touched your homework.”

“Maman, it’s Friday night!”

Maman chuckles. “So it is. I suppose your homework can wait,” she says, a playful glint in her eyes. She kisses Marinette’s forehead. “Your papa and I are going to finish up in the kitchen and then go upstairs to bed. It’s been a busy day. I trust that I don’t have to remind you that staying up all night to work on your designs isn’t something that I approve of?”

“I can promise you I won’t stay up all night to work on designs,” Marinette says with a smile. Watching movies, on the other hand, is something else entirely.

“Good,” Maman says. “We’ve got enough help tomorrow morning, so we won’t need you. You can sleep in.”

“Thanks!” 

Marinette heads upstairs and in unsurprised to see a blond cat-boy lounging on her bed. Chat is laying on his back, head on her pillow, hands tucked behind his head. She glances up at him as she opens her purse to let Tikki out, wondering what he’s thinking. He’s probably spent countless hours trying to figure out why his father acts the way that he does. She probably shouldn’t have said anything.

She moves over to her closet and opens the door, pulling out some pajamas. A quick glance at Chat tells her his focus is still the ceiling, so she reaches behind her and pulls the zipper on her dress down. She tells herself that it’s because one of her parents might come upstairs, and they’ll wonder if she goes into the bathroom to get changed. But really, she just doesn’t care tonight.

She pulls on her pajama bottoms and top, then reaches beneath the top to snap her bra off, letting out a sigh of relief as she pulls it out through one of her sleeves. It always feels good to take her bra off at the end of the day, but it feels especially good today. She doesn’t even realize that Chat has sat up and is watching her with intense curiosity until he speaks.

“How did you do that?”

Marinette startles. “Do what?” she asks, folding her bra up and sliding it into her drawer.

“Take it off without taking your shirt off first.”

“Oh. Um, I dunno. It’s just something I do,” Marinette says, shrugging. 

Chat lays down on his stomach, propping his chin on his hands. “It was cool.”

“You know, most boys would be more interested in what’s under the bra, not in how their girlfriend takes it off.”

“Oh, I’m interested in that too,” Chat says, leering at her. “Would you show me?”

“Do you want me to?” Marinette asks, genuinely curious. He’s seen her mostly naked before. They’ve had some seriously challenging akuma battles where their suits were compromised or damaged. But she supposes it has a different connotation now.

“Yes,” he says.

Marinette considers this. “Okay.” In a fit of what may be temporary insanity, she grabs the hem of her shirt and yanks her top up to expose her breasts, then just as quickly yanks it back down. Her heart pounds and she almost can’t believe she did it, except for the priceless look on Chat’s face. His eyes are bugged out, jaw dropped so low she can see his bottom teeth, kitty ears sitting straight up on his head, tail shooting into the air. 

She can’t help herself. She cracks up.

“That was – that was mean!” Chat says, his face rapidly turning a shade of red that rivals her Ladybug suit.

“Mean, huh? I’ll remember that the next time you ask to see my boobs,” Marinette says coyly, hearing the sounds of Tikki giggling. She grins herself.

“I didn’t – I didn’t, that wasn’t – I –” He stutters himself to a stop and sinks down so low on the bed that all she can see are two bright green eyes peering at her and his kitty ears.

Marinette laughs again. “Detransform, kitty cat. I’m going to go get our snacks. You get comfortable. I’ll be right back.”

She clatters back down the steps while he’s still sputtering, grinning wider. It’s fun to tease Chat, though she’s sure he’ll retaliate at some point. She presses a hand over her breasts, hardly able to believe that she just did that. She flashed someone! Her, Marinette Dupain-Cheng! Granted, that person was her partner, but still. It’s kind of a rush that she’s not fully sure how to deal with.

Her parents are both still downstairs, so Marinette is able to get her cookies out of the cupboard and make some popcorn without being asked why she’s getting snacks right after supposedly eating dinner. Truth is, she’s pretty sure she didn’t eat more than half a dozen bites of her meal. And she’s equally sure that Adrien didn’t even touch his food. 

She divvies up the popcorn, adding butter and salt to the bigger bowl and cheese to the smaller one, and then grabs two sodas from the fridge. She puts everything on a tray and carefully carries it back upstairs to find that Adrien is now the one occupying her bed. He’s still a little pink and he can’t quite look at her, especially when Plagg and Tikki start cackling as soon as she walks in.

“I brought the cake,” Adrien says quickly, probably hoping to distract her.

“Great, I brought two forks,” Marinette says, brandishing the utensils. “Here, take his tray.” She passes the tray up to him, then moves back to her desk to snag her laptop. She brings that up with her and is pleased to see that Adrien’s lined her pllows up against the wall so that they can lean back against them. The cake box is sitting in front of the pillows.

Marinette scoots closer, leaning against the pillows, and beckons him. He moves to sit next to her and she pulls the covers up over their laps. Then she props her laptop up on a couple of stuffed animals, opens up the container of cookies for Tikki, hands Plagg his bowl of cheese popcorn, and grabs the cake box. She flips the lid up and hands Adrien a fork, keeping the second fork for herself.

“Are we going to eat all of this?” Adrien asks.

“Damn straight,” Marinette says. “Bon appétit.” She stabs a strawberry with her fork and pulls it off the cake, popping it into her mouth and humming. Her papa always dips his strawberries in a mixture of milk and dark chocolate, which contrasts nicely with the sweetness of the strawberries.

“I’ve never eaten half of a cake before,” Adrien says, looking at the cake with a gleam in his eyes. “I hardly ever get to have cake, period.”

“That’s why you have me,” Marinette says. “What do you want to watch first?”

They watch all the episodes of Ouran High School Host Club first. It’s almost cringey to see the over-the-top reactions; she can definitely see where Chat picked up all his flirting from. They polish off the cake somewhere around the end of Ouran; Marinette hauls the huge bowl of popcorn into their laps and they move on to another favorite of Adrien’s, Sailor Moon. That’s really long. She falls asleep somewhere in the middle of season two, her head on Adrien’s shoulder and his arm around her shoulders.

A beeping sound wakes her up. At first Marinette thinks it’s an alarm, and she grumbles because it’s Saturday and she’s all wrapped up with her boyfriend and she doesn’t have to help in the bakery so there is literally no reason for a stupid alarm to be going off. It takes a very long moment for her sleep-fogged brain to work out that it’s the beeping is actually a phone.

“Adrien, your phone is ringing,” Tikki says, somewhere far off. Marinette’s frankly surprised that the kwami is even awake; Tikki polished off almost two dozen chocolate chip cookies last night, while Plagg gorged himself on every last scrap of cheese popcorn. She honestly thought that both kwamis would sleep well into the day.

“What? My phone?” Adrien mumbles. He shifts around and Marinette whines when he nearly dislodges her from where she’s sleeping on top of him. At some point in the night, they must’ve laid down. Now he’s flat on his back and she’s half sprawled on him. 

“Tell whoever it is to go away,” Marinette says, her words muffled because she’s too tired to lift her face off of his chest. 

“Hello?” Adrien says. There’s a pause, and then he goes, “What?!” in a voice that immediately snaps Marinette awake. Seriously, she goes from half asleep to alert in the span of less than a second. She sits up and looks down at Adrien. His eyes are wide and his face is pale. He meets her gaze, but even thought she knows him better than she knows herself she can’t read whatever’s going on from his face alone. That, more than anything, tells her that something is seriously wrong.

“Okay. No, I’ll get there. I – I’m coming now.” His voice has a tremor in as he hangs up, and his phone falls silently to her bed.

“Adrien? What’s wrong?” Marinette whispers, her heart thudding.

“That was Nathalie. Père has been in a car accident. They don’t think he’s going to make it.” Adrien sounds lost somewhere between horror and shock. Marinette gasps, her hand flying up to cover her mouth.

“Oh, Adrien.” She doesn’t know what to say. 

“I have to… I have to go.”

“Of course. We’ll go now.”

“You’ll come with me?” he asks, looking at her. 

“Yes, of course,” Marinette says again, hating how lost he looks. She grabs his hand. “Tikki, spots on!”

“Plagg, claws out!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D


	18. Chapter 18

Ladybug and Chat Noir crawl out the window onto her balcony. Quietly, Chat tells her what hospital his father has been taken to and they leap off the balcony tohether. It takes them a good twenty minutes to get there across the rooftops, and Chat doesn’t say another word the whole way. His expression is weirdly blank and she can’t tell what he’s thinking, which leads her to think that he’s in shock. Which is understandable. Her brain hasn’t quite absorbed this yet either.

They find a quiet alley to de-transform in. Marinette belatedly realizes she’s still wearing her pajamas, and so is Adrien for that matter, but the mild embarrassment isn’t enough to stop her from taking Adrien’s hand and leading him into the bustling hospital. No one gives them a second look. She looks around but doesn’t anyone that she recognizes, so she walks up to the information counter.

“Excuse me, we got a call about Gabriel Agreste?” she whispers.

The nurse looks up at her, then over at Adrien. “Names?”

“Adrien Agreste and Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

Turning away, the nurse picks up a phone and dials a number. He speaks quietly into it for a couple of minutes, glancing at Marinette every few seconds. Marinette hopes that no one asks them for identification. She doesn’t have her purse and she’s pretty sure Adrien doesn’t have his wallet. She wishes they’d taken the time to get dressed, or at least grab their I.D.s.

“Someone will be with you shortly,” the nurse tells them, hanging up the phone. “Please have a seat.”

“But can’t you at least tell us if he’s okay?” Marinette presses.

“Please sit, Mademoiselle.”

Marinette grits her teeth in frustration. She bets that if she were Ladybug, the nurse would tell her whatever she wants to know. The urge to go transform somewhere and come back is strong, but she tamps it down in favor of finding a couple of spare seats in the crowded waiting room. She gently pushes Adrien down and then sinks into the seat beside him, still holding his hand.

“What will I do if Père dies?” Adrien whispers suddenly.

“Adrien…”

“He’s all I have left, Marinette. Without him, I’ll be an orphan.” Adrien’s voice breaks on that last word. “I wish my mother was here.”

“I’m sorry, Adrien.” She reaches over and hugs him, ignoring the fact that the armrest between them jabs painfully into her ribs. He sinks into her hug, hiding his face against her shoulder.

Nathalie strides into the waiting room a few minutes later. Marinette may have only met her yesterday, but she’s positive that this is the most dishevelled that Nathalie has looked in a very long time. Stray strands of hair are escaping Nathalie’s bun, probably from her repeatedly running her hands through her hair. Her suit is wrinkled and there’s a coffee stain on the right lapel. Despite that, she walks over to them like a woman on a mission.

“Adrien, we need to talk,” she says quietly. “Thank you for bringing him here, Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng. I’ll have a car take you home.”

“No,” Adrien says, lifting his head. “I want her to stay.”

“Adrien –”

“She stays,” Adrien says firmly, in a voice that allows for no arguments. “Marinette stays.”

Nathalie purses her lips, then nods. “Okay. It might be good for you to have a friend here. Very well. Please follow me. I think this is a conversation best held in private.”

Adrien’s face gets a little paler, but he nods and stands. Marinette stands too. They follow Nathalie out of the waiting room and over to the nearest set of elevators. Nathalie presses the button and stands in silence, her arms at her sides. Marinette’s heart thuds uncomfortably hard against her ribs. The tension in the elevator is unbearable and she’s not used to that, to this. Adrien is clearly doing his best to look composed, but she can feel the way that his hand is shaking.

When the elevator doors open, Nathalie steps out and walks down a hallway. Marinette and Adrien follow her. She leads them past the nursing station, around a corner, and into a small room. Nathalie waits until they’re both inside before she steps out. She’s only gone for a moment before she returns with a woman wearing a white coat. Adrien’s grip on Marinette’s hand becomes painfully tight.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Guerin,” she says with a kind smile. “I understand that you are Monsieur Agreste’s son?”

“Yes,” Adrien says hoarsely. “That’s me. Is – is Père…” He can’t seem to make himself finish.

Dr. Geurin hesitates, then sighs. “Why don’t we sit?” she suggests, moving to do so herself. Marinette has to pull Adrien into a seat between her and Nathalie.

“I’m going to be upfront with you, Adrien. Your father was in a car accident this morning. He was brought to the hospital where he underwent emergency surgery in an effort to save his life, but his injuries are quite severe.”

Adrien recoils, like each word is a physical blow. “What – what happened?” he whispers.

Nathalie clears her throat. “The police were investigating the matter the last I heard,” she says. “It was a single vehicle collision. No one else was involved. They haven’t released any details yet. Your father’s driver was killed instantly in the crash.”

“Oh my god,” Marinette whispers, shocked.

“Another car stopped and called for help,” Nathalie continues. “Your father was brought here.”

“We’ve done what we can, but frankly there wasn’t much that we could do. He lost a lot of blood at the scene,” Dr. Geurin says, her voice very kind. “This is never easy for me to say, particularly to a child, but I believe in being honest. I am not expecting your father to live through the day. He has a couple of hours at the most.”

Adrien just stares at her. 

“I can give you the full rundown of his injuries later, but for right now I’ll just say that his heart is very weak and is struggling. I’d advise you to spend what time with him that you can.”

“Thank you,” Nathalie says, rising. “Could I speak with you outside the room?”

“Of course.” Dr. Guerin and Nathalie step outside the room, thankfully closing the door behind them. There are no windows, so Tikki and Plagg burst out the second the door is shut.

“Oh, Adrien, I’m so sorry,” Tikki says tearfully.

“This can’t be happening,” Adrien says numbly. “I just saw him last night at dinner. He was being an asshole and I was pissed at him. I didn’t even say good-bye to him before I left. He was supposed to go to the airport and get on a plane and I would have three weeks free of him…”

Marinette chews her lip, struggling to think of what to say. “Do you want to go see him?” she asks finally. 

“No.”

That answer surprises all three of them, but it’s Plagg who says, “Kid, are you sure?”

“How can I go see him when part of me hates him and is glad this is happening?” Adrien pulls away, letting go of Marinette’s hand and standing up. He starts pacing, waving his arms around. “He was a horrible father to me, but all I’ve ever wanted is for him to be proud of me. But I knew that would never happen, so I started to hate him. I hate him for what he’s done to me. What kind of son does that make me?”

He sounds so genuinely anguished that it breaks Marinette’s heart. “Adrien, no one blames you for that. He _hurt_ you. A lot.”

“But he’s my father,” Adrien says. “I’m a terrible son.”

“No, you’re not. You’re the best son anyone could ask for. I know that because you’re the best partner.” Marinette catches his hands, bringing them to her chest. “You don’t have to see him if you don’t want to, but I… I just don’t want you to make a decision that you’ll regret.”

He stares at her, chest heaving, eyes bright. “I want this to not have happened, My Lady.”

“I’m sorry. If I could fix this for you, I would.” Marinette hurts with how much she wants to fix this. It’s physically painful to know that no Lucky Charm can take away the pain in Adrien’s face.

He bowes his head. “I can’t deal with this right now. I just… I can’t.”

She wraps her arms around him. “Do you want to just sit here with me for a little while?”

Adrien’s quiet for a long moment, holding onto her desperately, before he shakes his head. “No. I want – I think I do want to see him after all.”

“Okay. Do you want me to come with you?”

“Yes. Please don’t leave me.”

“I won’t. I’ll never leave you, _Chaton_.” She catches his hand again, squeezing it. “You don’t have to see him, Adrien. You know that, right? It’s your choice.”

“I know.” He takes a deep breath. “Can I talk to Plagg for a minute? Alone?”

“Of course.” Marinette gestures to Tikki. Her kwami disappears beneath her top as Marinette opens the door and steps out into the hallway. Nathalie and the doctor are gone, thankfully. She’s not sure she could keep up her composure around them. Adrien needs her to be strong right now, but she’s not sure how to do that when she wants to break apart.

She’s thought about this exact moment _so many times_. She’s wished Chat’s father dead dozens of times. Never once did it actually occur to how horrible it would be. What kind of person does that make _her_?

She leans against the wall right beside the door, closing her eyes against the tears threatening to build up and spill down her cheeks. She’s never seen her partner like this before and it’s scary. This could be the thing that breaks Adrien apart. His guilt, his relief, his grief… the conflicting emotions are threatening to tear him apart and Gabriel isn’t even dead yet. She wraps her arms around herself in a hug.

“Marinette?” Tikki whispers. The collar of Marinette’s shirt moves, and then two tiny paws touch Marinette’s chin. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay,” Marinette says, the lump in her throat making it difficult to speak. “He’s such an awful person, Tikki. I hate what this is doing to Adrien, but I’m glad that Gabriel is dying. How can I think that way?”

“Because he hurt someone you care about very deeply,” Tikki says. She rubs her head against the underside of Marinette’s chin. “You should talk to Plagg tonight.”

“Plagg?”

“He feels exactly the same way you do. It’s been torture for him to watch what Gabriel’s done to his kitten all these years, never being able to interfere because Adrien didn’t want him to. But it’s never easy to see the impact of losing someone. Adrien loves his father, even if he doesn’t want to.”

Marinette covers her eyes with her hands. “How did you get so wise, Tikki?”

Tikki nuzzles her again. “I’ve lived a long time and lost a lot of Ladybugs,” she whispers sadly. “It never gets easier. My heart goes out to Adrien right now. He’s going to need you now more than ever, Marinette. Are you ready for that?”

“I don’t know, but I’m going to do my best. Adrien is everything to me. I won’t let him go through this alone.”

“And that’s why you make a perfect Ladybug,” Tikki says. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks,” Marinette whispers. Tikki’s words help somewhat. “Am I bad a person, Tikki?”

“You and Adrien are both good people. The fact that you’re struggling with this the way you are tells me that.”

The door opens beside her, and Marinette doesn’t bother to respond in lieu of turning to check on her partner. Adrien looks at her. His eyes are dry now; she doesn’t think he was crying, though it’s possible and she would hardly blame him if he was. Plagg peeps out from beneath Adrien’s shirt collar, green eyes luminescent even in the brightness of the hallway. For a fleeting moment, Marinette wonders whether Plagg got fed up with not being able to interfere and cursed Gabriel Agreste with enough bad luck to cause a car accident.

She would bake him a cheesecake if he had.

“I’m ready,” Adrien says.

“Okay,” Marinette says softly. “I’ll check at the nurse’s desk to see where he is.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been eagerly awaiting my chance to post this chapter. I'm so excited. Thank you so much for the comments up until now!

The nurse directs them down the hall. Gabriel has a private room, of course. Adrien enters first. Marinette steps in behind him, but hangs back. She’s pretty sure that they’re not supposed to be in the room at the same time, but she’s standing out of sight of the window so she hopes that means she won’t get caught. Either way, she’s not leaving Adrien in here alone.

Adrien moves over to the bed and stands there for a long time, just looking down at his father. Gabriel’s eyes are closed. Both of his arms and both legs are encased in casts. The sheets are pulled down around his waist, so Marinette can see that his bare torso is heavily bandaged as well. Even his head is encased in bandages, so that all that’s really visible is his puffy, swollen face. Numerous machines are hooked up to him, so many that there’s actually barely room for Adrien to stand beside the bed. 

It’s not hard to believe that he’s dying.

“I feel like I’m supposed to say something,” Adrien says finally, speaking over the low beep of medical equipment.

“You can say whatever you want, or say nothing,” Marinette says. She’s seen lots of deaths on television, but those were movies or shows. She’s never seen anyone die in real life – except for Chat. She’ll always carry the memory of her partner fading away in her arms. What would she have wanted to say in that moment, if she could have spoken past the grief and rage? 

What do you say when you _know_ someone isn’t coming back?

Adrien opts not to speak, instead taking a few steps back and sinking into one of the chairs in the room. Marinette creeps forward to join him; she intends to sit in the chair beside him, but instead Adrien wraps an arm around her waist and pull her down into his lap. Though startled, Marinette lets it happen. Tikki and Plagg both slide down into her lap, and Adrien cups a hand around their kwamis and keeps the other one around her waist, hugging them all close to him. Then he leans his head on Marinette’s shoulder and just stares at Gabriel.

Marinette puts an arm around him and then her free hand over his hand where he’s touching their kwamis, feeling the way Plagg and Tikki shift at her touch. She leans her head on his and just tries to focus on breathing steadily. The beeping of the monitors is the only sound that fills the room, and there’s just so _many_ of them. There’s an unbelievable amount of wires attached to Gabriel right now.

At one point, a nurse comes in. She says nothing to Marinette or Adrien, just gives them a sympathetic smile and goes about her tasks. Marinette manages to smie back, moving her hand slightly so as to better block the nurse’s view of the kwamis in their lap. Chances are she would mistake them for stuffed animals even if she did see them, but it’s better to be safe than sorry and she’s not sure Adrien is in the right frame of mind to think of things like that.

When the nurse is gone, Marinette is trying to figure out a tactful way to suggest that she and Adrien should go eat something – she’s not sure how long they’ve been here for, but judging by the position of the sun outside the window it’s got to be at least after noon – when Gabriel makes a soft sound. Adrien tenses beneath her. Marinette freezes. They both watch as Gabriel’s eyes slowly open.

“Père…” Adrien breathes, leaning forward. Marinette’s quick to slide off his lap and stand, moving to the side, so that Adrien has unrestricted access to his father.

“Adrien.” Gabriel’s voice is low, almost inaudible. It seems to pain him to speak.

“Do you remember what happened?” Adrien asks, getting up and stepping up beside the bed again. “Do you know –”

“I’ve spoken to Nathalie,” Gabriel interrupts. 

Adrien nods, biting his lip. Then he whispers, “What can I – I mean, do you need anything?”

“Yes,” Gabriel says, almost reverently, as though he’s been waiting for Adrien to ask this very question. “I have a task for you, Adrien. I have poured everything I have into this mission over the past two years. I need you to swear to me that you’ll finish it.”

“What?” Adrien asks, looking as confused as Marinette feels.

With a pained grunt, Gabriel opens up his right hand. Marinette stares at it, and for several seconds it’s like her mind refuses to process what she’s seeing. It’s a broach with a dark purple, oval-shaped gem in the center. Four long wings extend from the gem; closer to the center they’re purple, but towards the tips they’re a light grey. The gem sparkles beneath their gazes.

It can’t be what she thinks it is. It can’t. But even as the thought is flitting through Marinette’s brain, something shifts up near Gabriel’s left shoulder. It’s a little kwami, she realizes. This one is light purple in color, with butterfly shaped wings. There’s a dark purple swirl on its forehead. The big purple eyes stare at them, then lower. The kwami sinks back out of sight.

“Nooroo!” Plagg hisses. Marinette automatically tightens her grip on their kwamis.

At the same time, Adrien says, in a high-pitched voice, “Père? What the hell is that?”

“It’s the secret to my life’s work, Adrien. The key to bringing your mother back.”

“I… I don’t understand.” But Adrien _does_ understand. She can see it in his eyes.

“This is the Butterfly Miraculous. You must take it and continue my work as Hawkmoth. Get Ladybug’s and Chat Noir’s miraculouses. At first I just wanted to bring your mother back, but now… now you can use them to change the timeline to back before your mother left. Change things back to how they should be.” In spite of all his injures, Gabriel’s eyes blaze with an inner strength that’s, quite frankly, terrifying. 

“What… No. No, you can’t be Hawkmoth.” Adrien shakes his head. “You can’t.”

“I am. And I’m close to obtaining my wishes. _Our_ wish. You can do this, Adrien. I believe in you.”

Adrien stares at him. Marinette claps a hand to her mouth in horror. She knows how long Adrien has been waiting to hear those words. For a single, terrifying second, she thinks Adrien is going to agree. Her breath catches in her throat as Adrien reaches out and plucks the Butterfly Miraculous from Gabriel’s hand, and a triumphant smile crosses Gabriel’s beaten face. 

“You… you want me to fight Ladybug,” Adrien says, a funny note in his voice. “You want _me_ to take her miraculous.”

“I know that you can. You don’t know the power that the Black Cat and Ladybug miraculouses have, Adrien. It’s untold. They can make any wish – ” Gabriel gasps suddenly, flinching back against the pillows. His breathing gets a little ragged.

“You want me to fight against Ladybug,” Adrien repeats. Suddenly, he laughs. Marinette winces. It’s a laugh full of grief, not amusement.

Just as quickly, Adrien stops laughing. He steps closer to Gabriel and leans down so that they’re staring at each other from barely a foot apart. Very quietly, Adrien says, “I would never raise a hand to My Lady. She’s everything to me, and I love her more than anything. My only regret is that we never got to face you in battle and have you sent to prison the way you deserved.”

Gabriel’s eyes open wide. “What?”

“Thank you for returning the Butterfly Miraculous to me, Père. Ladybug and I have been trying to get it back for a very long time. We’ll be sure to take it back to the Guardian where it belongs.”

Uncertainty and horror mingle together into understanding on Gabriel’s face. “You’re… Chat Noir?”

“I am. It’s funny, don’t you think? Perhaps if you’d paid attention to me beyond using me as your personal stress release, you would have realized. Instead, here we are.” Adrien straightens up. “Part of me was sad that you were dying, but now – now that I know what you’ve done… the people you’ve hurt, the things you’ve done to me… to my partner…” He turns on his heel and stalks out of the room.

“Adrien!” Gabriel calls, or tries to. The word comes out as a breathless whisper. He’s struggling to breathe, like the shock has been too much. His eyes land on Marinette. It’s obvious, in that moment, that he recognizes her and grasps who she is, because sheer hatred flashes across his face.

Marinette doesn’t care. She numbly says, “You should know that I love your son very much. I will take care of him. I don’t tell you that to comfort you, but rather to spite you. Adrien is _mine_. We’re going to get married and have kids. We’re going to be happy. And you… you will remain a part of our past that we don’t think about.” She tosses her hair to show him her earrings, and Gabriel grunts like he’s trying to move.

“What a pathetic sight,” Plagg says, streaking out of Marinette’s loosened grip.

“Not even worthy to be a miraculous wielder,” Tikki adds contempuously. “Nooroo, come out! You’re no longer bound to this horrible man.”

Nooroo peeks up again. “Master…”

“He’s not your master anymore,” Tikki says. “Marinette and Adrien will take care of you. Come on.” She flits over to the bed, avoiding Gabriel, and gently grabs Nooroo. She pulls the butterfly kwami up and over Marinette’s head; they disappear out the door.

“I could kill you,” Plagg says, floating down towards Gabriel’s face. “I could use my Catacylsm and watch you crumble to dust before my eyes. I’ve thought about doing it so many times… you can’t imagine. Bug wouldn’t stop me, either. She wants to see you die just as much as I do.”

Gabriel’s eyes dart to Marinette. She folds her arms across her chest, keeping a blank expression on her face. She’s actually not sure what she would do if Plagg tried to use Catacylsm on Gabriel. She might feel compelled to stop him, if only because there would be a lot of questions about it if Gabriel suddenly disappeared, but she’s not sure that would outweigh the very real desire to see Gabriel Agreste die.

He’s Hawkmoth. Fucking _Hawkmoth_. Of course he is. As though this situation wasn’t bad enough.

“But I won’t, because I can tell that you’re not going to last much longer. You’re already dead, and Adrien is going to need me. I hope it hurts, Agreste. It’s only the start of the pain and torment your soul is going to feel from here on out.” Plagg’s eyes seem to glow as he speaks, and a chill runs down Marinette’s spine.

Gabriel’s body convulses and his eyes roll back. Plagg turns and floats over to Marinette; he tugs her hair ties free, then crawls beneath her hair and huddles into a ball at the base of her head. The machines in the room start going wild. Three nurses burst into the room all at once. One of them shoves Marinette out of the way so hard she almost trips over her own two feet. By the time she’s caught her balance, there are two more nurses and three doctors in the room and there’s not enough room for her. She doesn’t want to stay, anyway. No one pays attention as she quickly makes her escape.

Out in the hallway, Marinette finds a chair and sinks down into it. Her knees feel weak. Even though she knows she needs to find Adrien quickly, she needs a moment to breathe and absorb what just happened. Gabriel is Hawkmoth. _Adrien’s father_ is Hawkmoth. No matter how many times the words go through her brain, it’s like they refuse to make any sense.

“Breathe, Princess,” Plagg whispers behind her. “You’re hyperventilating.”

“No, I’m not,” Marinette mutters, though she probably is. She leans forward, putting her head between her knees the way her papa told her to, and closes her eyes. 

“You did good,” Plagg says. “You rubbed it in his face.”

“I just can’t believe it. I just… of all the people…”

“It’s a shock, but it makes sense in retrospect. For as long as I’ve known Adrien, his old man’s been obsessed with his mother. Though I have to admit, I didn’t see this coming. I wish I had.”

“Poor Adrien.” Marinette covers her face with her hands. 

“At least he’s dead,” Plagg says.

“Plagg!”

“What? It’s true. Adrien might think that he wishes he could’ve seen Hawkmoth go to jail, but the truth is that would probably kill him. This way, it’s nice and quiet and private. No one else has to know. Paris will think that Hawkmoth just faded away, or maybe you two can make some kind of statement to the press that he’s been dealt with appropriately. No one needs to know, and that means Adrien won’t have to deal with the kind of pressure that a public outcry would put on him.”

Plagg makes a scary amount of sense. Put like that, Marinette can see what he means. That much public attention would be really hard on Adrien. Not to mention, it would put Adrien in the awkward position of having to face all the angry people that Gabriel hurt over the years. Plus, it means that Chat won’t have to make a statement against his father. 

But it’s still not fair.

“Bug, I know you’re struggling, but my kitten needs you right now,” Plagg says in her ear.

“You’re right. Yes. I’m going.” Marinette sits up, feeling slightly less like she’s going to freak out, and runs her hands through her hair, tucking several strands behind her ears. When she stands up, her legs are strong enough to hold her. She shakily makes her way down the hall.


	20. Chapter 20

Perhaps unsurprisingly, the door to the small room where she and Adrien were before is now closed. She doesn’t knock, just puts a hand on the knob and pushes the door open. Only after the door is opening does she realize that she may actually be walking in on strangers, but then she catches sight of Adrien. He’s sitting in one of the chairs, head in his hands. Tikki is sitting on his knee. Nooroo is sitting on a separate chair, alone.

“ _Chaton_?” Marinette whispers.

Adrien looks up. The sight of the tears in his eyes are not unexpected, but it still hurts. Marinette quickly enters, pushing the door shut behind her, and moves over to him. As soon as she’s within arms reach, Adrien slings an arm around her waist and pulls her in. He buries his face against her midsection. Marinette swallows and puts her hands on his head, gently petting his hair. She can feel the way he’s shaking with sobs, and it breaks her heart to see him suffering.

“I’m so sorry, Adrien,” she says. “I’m sorry.”

Adrien shakes his head. “Hawkmoth. He was Hawkmoth. How did I not know?” he asks, face still hidden.

“He hid it from you. He didn’t want you to know.”

“But I’m Chat Noir! I should’ve seen it! We live… we lived in the same damn house!”

She can’t let Adrien destroy himself this way. Marinette says, gently but firmly, “Adrien, stop it. Your father yelled at you all the time. He pushed you around. He hit you. He’s left you with more bruises over the years than I can count. You may have lived in the same house, but you did everything you could to keep your distance from him and that _makes sense_. Of course you couldn’t have seen this.”

She sinks to her knees so that she can see his face, resting their foreheads together. “ _Ma moitié_ , listen to me. This isn’t your fault, okay? I wouldn’t suspect my parents of being Hawkmoth either. I wouldn’t suspect anyone that I know. He didn’t want you to see, so you didn’t.”

“It was all for my mother,” Adrien says. “He never thought about me. He didn’t care if I got caught up in akuma attacks, or if my friends or people I care about were targeted.” His voice cracks when he whispers, “Princess, did he ever love me at all?”

He lowers his head, looking down at his hand, at the Butterfly Miraculous. 

“Oh, Adrien.” Marinette hugs him, her eyes filling with tears. The sheer pain in Adrien’s voice is almost too much to bear. 

He breaks down then, sobbing in her arms. Marinette just holds him through it, shedding her own tears silently. At one point he slides off the chair and into her lap, holding on to her with such a desperation that it takes her breath away. Like he’s afraid that she’s going to leave him too. All she can do is hold him that much tighter, silently reassuring him that she’ll always be there and that she isn’t going anywhere.

She’s never sure how long they’re in the room for before there’s a quiet knock on the door. Marinette hastily takes the Butterfly Miraculous and shoves it into her pocket, while Tikki and Plagg rush to hide. The door opens slightly and, much to Marinette’s shock, her maman pokes her head in. Her face fills with sympathy and compassion when she sees the two of them, tempered with sadness, and Marinette is surprised to find that it makes her a bit angry. She can’t tell if those emotions are directed at Adrien, and no one should feel bad for Gabriel Agreste.

“Marinette, we’d like to take you and Adrien home,” Maman says. “Would that be okay?”

“Sure,” Marinette says. “Adrien can come with us? Because I won’t leave him.”

Maman nods. “I know. Madame Sancoeur called us and asked if we’d be willing to look after Adrien for a few days. Just until things are a little more settled. She said she would contact you when she’s ready to meet with you, Adrien.”

“My father, is he…?” Adrien rasps, like he hasn’t heard anything Maman said.

Maman winces, her eyes meeting Marinette’s, but and her voice is very soft when she says, “He passed away a few minutes ago, Adrien.”

Adrien nods but doesn’t speak. Marinette feels the tremor that runs through him and looks at her maman. “Can you give us a couple more minutes, Maman? We’ll be out soon, I promise.”

“Take all the time you need,” Maman says. “I’ll be out here when you’re ready.”

The door closes and Adrien shudders. “That’s it. He’s really gone, then. He can’t hurt anyone anymore.”

“He’s really gone,” Marinette agrees quietly, wiping the tears from her face. “Do you know what will happen to you now?”

“I have no idea. I don’t have any other family except for you and Plagg.” Adrien pulls away from her slightly, wiping at his own face with the sleeve of his top. “My grandparents on both sides are dead, and my parents were only children. My father never said whether he had made a plan for me if something happened.” His face twists. “I suppose he thought he’d get his hands on our miraculous and it would be a moot point.”

Damn Gabriel. Marinette takes a deep breath. “Well, you can come home with us for now. And if need be, you can stay with us forever.”

Adrien startles at that, turning to look at her. “Don’t you have to ask your parents that?”

“I’ll deal with them later,” Marinette says, cupping his cheek. She won’t see Adrien without a home, she knows that much for sure. And she won’t see him taken away from Paris, either. After two years of seeing her partner on a regular basis, and a few weeks of seeing him every day, she couldn’t bear to lose him now.

“Thanks,” Adrien says softly.

“You don’t have to thank me, _Chaton_.”

“I really, really do.” Adrien lifts a hand, taking hers, and then presses a kiss to her knuckles. “I’m ready.”

“Okay, let’s go.” Marinette holds still while Plagg lands on her shoulder and scrambles back into her hair. Tikki crawls down the back of Adrien’s shirt. Their kwamis appropriately settled, Marinette reaches for the doorknob.

Maman turns as soon as the door opens. “There’s a car waiting for us,” she says. 

“Lead on,” Marinette says, trying to smile as Adrien presses closer to her side. They’re getting a lot of curious stares from the nurses and other visitors on the floor. It’s obvious that word of Gabriel’s passing has gotten around, and that Adrien’s been recognized.

“It’s this way,” Maman says, moving to Adrien’s opposite side. She gives the nurses a sour, pointed glare, which is at least enough to make most of them look away.

Adrien remains huddled between them as they make their way back down to the first floor. Marinette is stunned to find that it’s dark outside when they emerge from the hospital. She knows she lost track of time while they were in the hospital, but she had no idea it was late enough for the sun to set. 

As promised, there’s a sleek black car idling at the curb waiting for them. Maman opens the door for them, allowing Adrien to slide in first, followed by Marinette. Their driver pulls away as soon as the door is closed. Marinette, glancing out the window, sees the flash of a few cameras, and feels her heart sink. Of course there are journalists here. Someone must have called the press.

The drive back to the bakery is quiet, since she and Adrien can’t exactly talk openly. Marinette moves close enough to comfortably lean her head on Adrien’s shoulder, and the contact seems to be enough for him. He trembles a couple of times, his grip on her tightening, and each time she just wants to wrap him up in a huge hug and hide him away from all the pain in the world. 

When they pull up in front of the bakery, Maman gets out first. She’s quick to usher Marinette and Adrien into the bakery. Fortunately, there are no customers around and she sends the two of them straight upstairs before turning to go back and talk to the driver. A little bemused, Marinette escorts her partner upstairs – this is, after all, the first time Adrien has ever been in their home outside of her bedroom.

Papa is waiting for them, expression filled with sympathy. “Hello, Adrien,” he says softly. “I’m very sorry for your loss.”

Adrien shakes again, his green eyes overly bright, and whispers, “Thank you, Sir.”

“You’ve had a long, trying day. Are you hungry?” He looks between them.

“I think… do you mind if I took a shower?” Adrien asks, staring at the ground. “I’d like to wash the smell of – of the hospital off me.” His voice falters slightly, and Marinette bites her lip. She forgets sometimes about Adrien’s enhanced sense of smell, which goes right along with his hearing.

“Of course. I can show you where it is,” Papa says.

“I’ll do it,” Maman says, coming in the door behind them. “Adrien, I’ve asked your driver to go back to your house to pick up some things for you. Changes of clothing, that kind of thing. If there’s any specific you’d like him to bring, just text him.”

“Oh.” Adrien blinks, looking lost, and Marinette quickly grasps the problem.

“Here,” she says, fishing her own phone out of her pocket and passing it into his hand. His phone is, of course, buried in the sheets of her bedding, where it was left in their mad scramble to get out the door as quickly as possible. She’ll have to get it for him later, because it’s not like her parents would understand why it’s there.

“Thanks.” Adrien holds the phone in both hands and allows Maman to steer him out of the room and up the stairs. Marinette gazes after him; she feels like she should be with him right now, but there’s no way her parents would allow her to sit in the bathroom with him while he showered.

“ _Ma belle_?” Papa comes up behind her, laying a big hand on her shoulder. Marinette glances up at him and, seeing the compassion in his face, feels her eyes start welling up with tears.

“Oh Papa, it was _awful_ ,” she weeps, falling into his open arms.

“I know, _ma petite_. I know.” Papa lifts her up like she’s a child again, backing towards the couch and settling her in his lap. He holds her tightly while she cries.

“Adrien was – Adrien was s-so upset. He-he couldn’t believe it was r-really happening,” Marinette eventually gasps between sobs. That’s not technically true, what Adrien really couldn’t believe was his father’s deathbed confession, but it’s close enough. 

“It was a shock,” Papa murmurs, rocking her from side to side. “A really big shock, for both of you. And for Maman and I. We were very worried when we got the call from the hospital.”

She wipes at her face again, tears still rolling down her cheeks. “I’m sorry, Papa. Adrien called me after he heard from Nathalie and it was – all I could think about was getting to his side as quickly as possible so that he wouldn’t have to be alone.” Her lower lip trembles.

“I understand.” Papa picks up a few kleenex and hands them to her. “You’re a good girl, Marinette. Adrien is very fortunate to have you.”

“I’m the lucky one,” Marinette says, her voice all shaky and raspy. 

Papa just gives her a sad smile. “You might think that now, but Adrien’s whole life is going to change now.”

“What’s going to happen to him?” Marinette asks tearfully.

“I don’t know. It depends on what Monsieur Agreste had written in his will. I assume he made plans for Adrien in the event something happened to him. For example, if Maman and I were to pass away, then you would go live with your Tante Héléne. Maman and I made that decision so that you would be able to stay in Paris, and not have to move away from what you’re familiar with.”

“Adrien doesn’t have any family.” No one except for her and Plagg and Tikki.

“Then I don’t know,” Papa says again, shaking his head. “I’m sure we’ll find out soon. In the meantime, he can stay here with us.” Papa pats her knee. “If it gets to be too much for you, I want you to make sure you say something.”

“Too much?” Marinette echoes, confused.

“Like I said, Adrien’s whole life is going to change. It’ll be even worse for him because his family has been in the spotlight, so he’ll have to deal with a lot of attention on top of everything else. That can be hard for anyone to handle, and you and Adrien don’t know each other very well yet. He doesn’t have to stay here. We can find somewhere else for him to go.”

Marinette physically recoils, nearly falling off her papa’s lap, and hears a low hiss. For a wild moment, she thinks the sound came from her and that Chat’s kitten-like tendencies have finally started to wear off on her. Then she hears it again and realizes that it’s Plagg, still hidden in her hair and hissing at her papa. She lifts a hand to the back of her neck like she’s gathering her hair into a low ponytail, when in reality she’s petting a very upset kwami.

“Papa, I won’t abandon Adrien,” she says, her heart hammering in her ears. “He’ll need me now more than ever.” She almost says that she’s all Adrien has, but doesn’t. “I will never push him away like that. I love him.”

Papa sighs. “You’ve only known each other for a little while, Marinette. You can’t know that.”

She wants to laugh, and only just chokes it back. “No. We are not having this conversation. Not now, not ever. I will _never_ give up on Adrien. I don’t care what happens.”

Because nothing could be worse than what’s already happened.

Papa visibly wilts under her fierce gaze, and stands with another sigh. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up. I just wanted to make sure that you’re okay, that’s all. Dealing with an unexpected death is hard on anyone, but I know that Monsieur Agreste was an icon of yours.”

“What?” Marinette says blankly, looking at her papa like he’s crazy. Just in time, she realizes that he’s talking about fashion and design. And she remembers that, at one point, Gabriel Agreste really was a fashion icon for her. She used to dream of working at his company, of being lucky enough to get an internship there. In her wilder fantasies, she was so good at what she did that she caught the eye of Gabriel himself and was immediately given permission to fabricate her own lines.

She hasn’t thought like that for a long time. Meeting Adrien had cooled her hero worhsip over Gabriel considerably, and when she found out he was Chat that was it. Her opinion of Gabriel would forevermore be in the toilet. She wouldn’t have worked with him if he was the last designer on Earth. Mostly because she wasn’t sure she would’ve been able to stop herself from hauling off and punching him in the face.

She gives her head a shake. “Ah, right. Yeah, it was all very sad,” she says, not even trying to pretend that she actually feels an ounce of grief. If it didn’t directly impact Adrien as much as it does, she might possibly dance on Gabriel’s grave later.

Papa is looking at her strangely, but fortunately he seems willing to let the moment pass. “Are you and Adrien hungry? Did you eat?” he asks again.

“No,” Marinette says. The cake, cookies and popcorn all seem like they happen so long ago. Even though she hasn’t eaten all day, she’s not very hungry. But she also knows that her parents will fuss a lot more if they don’t eat, so she adds, “But maybe something light.”

“How about croissants and butter?” Papa says, already moving towards the kitchen.

Marinette murmurs an agreement and drifts towards the stairs. She can hear the shower running as she ascends, and meets her maman coming out of her parent’s bedroom. Noticing that her maman looks frustrated, Marinette slows and gives her a questioning look. Maman sighs and props her hands on her hips.

“I have nothing for that boy to wear,” she frets. “Your papa’s stuff is too big, and anything you and I have is too small.”

“I have something that will fit,” Marinette says. “I’ll get it.” 

“Are you okay?” Maman asks, catching Marinette’s arm. “Your eyes are red.”

“I’m fine,” Marinette says. “I’m more worried about Adrien than anything. I want him to stay,” she adds quickly, because she can’t hear the same thing from her maman. “But… this is going to be hard on him.”

Maman nods pensively. “It’s never easy to lose a parent, but it’s especially difficult when you’re young. And poor Adrien, losing both his mother and his father so close together.”

Adrien’s mother isn’t dead so far as they know, but Marinette doesn’t bother to point that out. She can’t remember if Adrien told her parents the truth or if they’ve just assumed that Émilie is dead. Either way, she wonders if Émilie Agreste will come back now that Gabriel is dead. Surely the news will cross the world, so wherever Émilie is, she’ll see it. Would Adrien even want his mother to come back?

“Marinette?” Maman says, touching her arm. “The shower stopped.”

“Oh, yes. I’m going.” Marinette hurries up the steps into her room; she’s got plenty of clothing that will fit Adrien perfectly, because when she first started getting into designing men’s clothing she made pretty much everything for Chat. He was the boy she spent the most time with, and it didn’t take her long to roughly figure out his measurements. She knows from the jacket that her guesses were pretty spot on. At some point, she thinks wryly, she’ll have to make Adrien stand still long enough to go after him with a tape measure.

She opens up a trunk beneath her bed and pulls out a pair of pants and a plain t-shirt. Nothing fancy, but they’ll do for now until Adrien’s driver brings him back some clothing. She also takes the chance to find Adrien’s phone and slip it into the pocket of the pants. Then she walks out of her room and down the steps, quickly walking to the bathroom and knocking on the door.

“It’s me, _mon minou_.”

She’s not expecting the door to open a crack, but, with only a faint blush, Marinette takes it as the offer it is and slips inside. She vaguely registers that Tikki is sitting on the counter, but most of her focus is consumed by the fact that Adrien is wearing little more than a towel tied around his waist. Her eyes linger on his bare chest without her permission, taking in the defined muscles, and her mouth goes dry. She suddenly remembers what she did last night, flashing him, and feels her face burn.

"I have to say, I appreciate the look on your face right now," Adrien says, voice full of amusement.

Marinette stiffens with horror and snaps her eyes up to her face. "Oh god, I'm sorry. Now isn't the time."

He just shrugs. "Are those for me?" he asks, gesturing to the clothes in her arms.

"Uh, yeah. Just something I made. They're not much, but they'll do for now." She hands them over and then turns her back, pointedly not sneaking a glance in the mirror. It's tempting, and she knows Adrien wouldn't mind, but this is _really_ not the time.

"These fit me really well," Adrien notes, tapping her on the shoulder, and Marinette turns back to him. Eyeing the clothing critically, she realizes that the pants are a couple inches too long and that the shirt's a little broader in the shoulders than it should be. Still, it's no worse than some off-the-rack stuff Marinette's bought for herself before she tailored them to fit.

"Most of the men's clothing I've made is for you. Everything except a couple things I made for Papa," she says, looking up at him. 

"Really?" Adrien looks surprised by that, and Marinette smiles a little.

"Of course. Who else would I make clothing for?"

Adrien smiles back at her, but just as swiftly his smile fades. He opens his arms and she silently steps into them, wrapping her arms around him. Into her ear, Adrien whispers, "The only thing I could think of during my shower was that it was the first shower I've taken since my father died."

"Oh, Adrien." She hugs him harder, until her arms ache from the strain.

"And there are going to be lots of firsts," he continues. "My first meal. My first day at school. My first birthday. I can't even decide whether that's a good thing or not."

"He was your father. It's okay to miss him," Marinette says.

"But that's the thing. I don't even know if I do miss him. Every time I start to think about the good times, I remember the bad times. My ankle still hurts sometimes if I step weirdly. And then..." He audibly gulps. "And then I think about him being Hawkmoth, and how much danger he put the both of us in on a regular basis. He thought it was okay just because it's what he wanted. He's always been like that. It was all about him."

Marinette is quiet for a moment, trying to work out what to say. Before she can make up her mind, Plagg groans, slides out from under her hair, and says, "Enough moping around. The guy was an asshole. I, for one, am glad he's gone."

"Plagg!" Marinette and Tikki exclaim together.

Plagg just huffs. "What? Am I wrong? Now we never have to worry about Hawkmoth again, and I never have to spend another minute hiding in my kid's clothing while his jackass of a father slaps him around."

"Honestly, Plagg! I swear you don't have an ounce of compassion in your body!" Tikki huffs. "All of that stuff doesn't matter. It was still Adrien's father."

"It mattered a lot!" Plagg argues. "He was a shitty father!"

"That's not the point -"

"Wait," Adrien says, cutting Tikki off. "Now that Hawkmoth is gone... does that mean we have to give our miraculouses back?"

Marinette clutches at him as the question registers, a bolt of fear freezing her in place. She's done her best not to think about what happens after Hawkmoth is gone because she's terrified of the answer. She's never been brave enough to ask Tikki because if the answer was that she had to give her earrings back to Master Fu, Marinette's not sure she could handle it. Right now, feeling the tension in Adrien's body, she thinks that could be the thing that breaks Adrien entirely.

"What?" Plagg says, staring at them as though they've started spouting ghibberish.

"Of course not!" Tikki says at the same time.

"Really?" Marinette says, hope turning her knees weak.

Tikki shakes her head so hard her antennae whip around. "The bond a kwami shares with their Chosen is forever! Unless you want to give up your miraculous, no one can take them from you."

Adrien looks as relieved as Marinette feels, and he says, "I want to keep mine."

"I'm keeping mine too," Marinette says quickly.

"If you were worried, Marinette, you should've said," Tikki says admonishingly. "I could've told you a long time ago that was the case."

Marinette shrugs, feeling sheepish. "I just... Master Fu was always so worried about the miraculous being out there. That's why he said he didn't want to give the Fox, Bee or Turtle to anyone."

"That's why he was worried," says Plagg, crossing his little arms. "He has no control over us once we get a Chosen." His smile is pure mischief. "There's a reason why he's keeping Trixx in particular under wraps."

"Trixx?" Marinette repeats, looking askance at Tikki.

"The Fox," Tikki explains, shooting Plagg an amused look. “Master Fu also had a right to be worried about Plagg and Trixx being out and about at the same time. The last time that happened, there was a fire that almost destroyed Chicago.”

“You make one mistake…” Plagg mutters.

“It was more than one mistake, Plagg!” Tikki exclaims.

“Now I don’t feel so bad about going to see Master Fu to return the Butterfly Miraculous,” Adrien admits. Suddenly, he frowns. “Hey, where’s Nooroo?”

“He’s already gone back to the Guardian,” Tikki says. “Since the Butterfly Miraculous doesn’t have a holder right now, Nooroo doesn’t have to stay too close to it. I told him that you two could be trusted to bring the miraculous to Master Fu as quickly as you could.”

“We’ll go tomorrow morning. I don’t think my parents are going to let us go anywhere tonight,” says Marinette. 

“Tomorrow is fine,” Tikki says quickly. “You should eat and rest. Both of you have had a long day.”

“Papa was talking about croissants,” Marinette says, tapping her chin. She’s about to ask Adrien if he’s hungry when his stomach lets out a loud growl. Adrine looks down at his midsection like it’s betrayed him, and Marinette lets out a soft giggle.

“I guess I am hungry. I didn’t even notice,” Adrien says.

“Let’s go eat.” Marinette opens the door and pokes her head out, pleased to see that neither of her parents are around. She and Adrien make their way back to the kitchen, where there’s a steaming pile of freshly baked croissants sitting on the table. Crocks of honey butter, some cut-up fruit, and cheese are also sitting out. Marinette takes a seat and pats the seat beside her for Adrien to sit.


	21. Chapter 21

Between the two of them, they demolish the whole plate of croissants in a matter of minutes. Plagg eats most of the cheese, while Tikki sticks with the fruit. Marinette is pleasantly full by the time they’re done, and she realizes that she feels a little better. She glances at Adrien, hoping that the food has helped him too. 

“Adrien?” Maman pokes her head into the room. “I’ve set up the couch for you, Honey.”

It’s on the tip of Marinette’s tongue to ask why her maman’s set up the couch. She stops herself just in time. “Thanks Maman,” she says instead. After her talk with her papa, it’s probably not a good idea to suggest that she and Adrien share a bed. And while her parents don’t check on her during the night, she knows her maman often gets up for drinks of water. One or both of them will definitely notice if Adrien isn’t there.

Well, fine. There’s an obvious answer, since Marinette isn’t going to sleep alone tonight. She tags along while Maman gets Adrien settled, making sure that he knows where the extra blankets are if he gets cold, and where the glasses are if he gets thirsty, and where the remote for the television is. It would be funny to see Adrien’s bewildered face if it weren’t so damn _sad_. When was the last time anyone gave Adrien this much consideration?

“You help yourself to anything you need. We’re right upstairs if you need help,” Maman says, putting a hand on Marinette’s shoulder. “Come on, Marinette. It’s bedtime.”

“Coming, Maman.” Marinette follows her maman upstairs without complaint, and accepts the hug and kiss Maman offers her. Then Maman stands there and watches as Marinette goes upstairs to her room. 

“Are you okay with this?” Tikki asks as soon as Marinette’s got the door shut. “Adrien looked upset.”

“It’s just until Maman and Papa fall asleep. They’re both tired; it’s been a long day. I’ll sneak down in half an hour.” Marinette muffles a yawn. She’d like to take a shower of her own, but the sound of the water in the pipes will risk waking her parents up. She takes off her pajamas, exchanging them from a fresh set, and sits down to quickly text Alya and Nino to update them on what happened.

The half hour passes quickly, and before she knows it Marinette’s grabbing her Ladybug doll off of her desk and slowly easing her door up. She listens, but all she can hear is the soft sound of the television playing. It’s been a while since she had to sneak down the steps, but she still remembers exactly where the squeaky spots are. She makes it down without a sound and slowly creeps towards the living room, leaning around the corner to see her kitty laying on his back on the couch, staring at the television.

“Room for one more?” Marinette whispers.

Adrien jumps. “My Lady! I thought you went to bed?”

“I did, but only until Maman and Papa fell asleep. I can’t sleep by myself. Not now that I know what it’s like to sleep with you,” Marinette says softly, walking over to him. “Besides, it occurred to me that I never did give this you.” She shows him the doll, and he smiles.

“My Ladybug doll. Thanks.” He takes it, tucking it under one arm. “Can I have the real thing too?”

“Of course.” Marinette studies the couch, trying to figure out how to best make them fit when the couch is considerably smaller than her bed. They’ve slept in smaller, and more precarious, places, though: their favorite beam on the Eiffel Tower comes to mind. She motions for him to lay back down.

Once he’s flat on his back again, she carefully climbs over him, putting her right knee down between his thigh and the back of the couch. Adrien’s hands come up to grip her hips, helping her to keep her balance as she shifts her weigh over him. Then she lowers herself, not missing the sigh of relief that escapes him as she settles fully on top of him. Marinette smiles to herself, stretching her legs out and resting her head on his chest.

“I was trying to figure out how I was going to sleep alone,” he admits, grabbing a blanket that’s draped across the back of the couch. He tugs it down, pulling up over the both of them. Plagg and Tikki make a little spot in the blanket near Adrien’s shoulder and curl up together. Marinette tucks the blanket over them and then snuggles in with a sigh.

“I thought about sneaking you upstairs, but this seemed easier,” Marinette says.

“What if your parents catch us?”

She shrugs as best she can. “I’ll sneak back upstairs before they get up. Besides, so what if they do? We’re not doing anything wrong.”

“True. You are wearing all your clothing.”

“Oh my god,” Marinette groans. “You are never going to let that go, are you?”

Adrien snickers, wrapping his arms comfortably around her waist. Marinette just rolls her eyes and looks at the television, realizing that it’s a re-run of a popular soap opera. She watches it with disinterest for several minutes until she feels Adrien’s arms loosens slightly. When she looks up, she sees that he’s fallen asleep. Marinette smiles, turns the television off, and closes her own eyes.

Shockingly, both of them sleep straight through until morning. Had someone asked her, Marinette would’ve said she was positive at least one or both of them would have nightmares. But, she supposes, she and Adrien were just too exhausted after everything that happened. She wakes up to the sun in her eyes, and is confused as to why that’s happening until she remembers where she and Adrien are.

She’s still curled up on top of him. She can’t tell by the patterns being drawn on her back that Adrien is awake too. Marinette shifts, craning her neck to look at him. He blinks down at her. She can’t help leaning up to press a light kiss against his mouth. He kisses her back until the angle gets too uncomfortable to ignore, and then he pulls away with a sigh.

“Morning, Princess,” he murmurs. 

“Morning, _Ma moitié_ ,” she replies. “What time is it?”

“Hmm, just after 10am, I think.”

“Really? Darn. I was hoping to go back upstairs before Maman and Papa got up.” Marinette screws her face up, shaking her head at herself. Setting her alarm completely slipped her mind. Though it’s probably unreasonable to think she would really get up before 3am on a Sunday to sneak back upstairs to her bed.

“Your maman and papa already saw you,” Tikki volunteers. “They didn’t seem upset.”

“Actually, your maman said your papa owed her ten euros. He was convinced that you two would be up in your bedroom,” Plagg pipes up.

Marinette blushes. “I can’t believe they bet on us!”

“At least they weren’t mad,” Adrien says, bringing his hands up and setting them on her shoulders. “Like…” He trails off, and Marinette sobers.

“How are you feeling?” she asks.

Adrien considers the question. “Honestly? It hit me all over again this morning as soon as I woke up. I don’t really know how I feel yet. I think it’s going to take me a little while to actually process it all. I actually woke up thinking I had to rush home before I remembered.”

“Let’s start small. Do you feel hungry?” Marinette asks.

“My answer to that is definitely yes.”

Marinette peels herself off of her partner. She only elbows Adrien once, which is a remarkable success for her, though she then nearly trips over the bookbag and suitcase sitting beside the couch. Only Adrien lunging up and grabbing her around the waist prevents her from faceplanting into the coffee table. Marinette wobbles dangerously for a few seconds before catching her balance.

“Your bookbag!” she says, recognizing her assailant. “Your driver must have brought your things.”

“I’ll look at them after breakfast,” Adrien says, and gives her his kitten eyes. “Feed me, My Lady?”

More charmed than she wants to admit, Marinette nudges the bag and suitcase out of the way and heads for the kitchen to find the room empty. She’s not surprised, since normally at this time both her parents would be hard at work. She pokes around until she finds some bread which she can toast, and then she makes some tea. She rustles up some cheese for Plagg and cookies for Tikki and turns around to find Adrien smiling at her.

“What?” Marinette asks, feeling self-conscious at the intency of his stare.

“I just… nothing.” Adrien ducks his head.

“No, what?”

“I just… I was thinking how nice it’ll be when we have our own kitchen, and we can make breakfast together,” Adrien mumbles, blushing.

She blushes too, but she can’t deny that she likes the sound of that a lot. “I’d like that,” she says shyly, bringing their food over to the table.

They eat, sticking to safe subjects like school and whether or not Nino or Alya will break first and ask the other out – Marinette has money on Nino asking Alya out first, whereas Adrien is adamant on Alya getting fed up – and have just finished when the kitchen door cracks open. Plagg and Tikki scramble into Marinette’s lap as Papa enters carrying a little platter with two small tartes. 

“You’re awake,” he says. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, Papa,” Marinette says.

“Good morning,” Adrien says.

“I brought you a treat.” He sets the platter down on the table and smiles at their empty plates. “Adrien, your driver brought your bags over.”

“I saw them, thank you.”

Papa nods. “If you need anything else, just let him know. He said he wouldn’t mind bringing anything by.”

“I’ll take a look and let him know,” Adrien says.

“What are your plans for the day?” Papa looks at Marinette.

“I thought we’d go for a walk,” Marinette says. “Maybe see Alya and Nino.” She gives her papa significant look, hoping he’ll pick up on what she’s not saying. Staying in the bakery all day will just give Adrien time to dwell. Plus, not that her papa knows, they have a miraculous to return.

“Just be careful. The press haven’t figured out where Adrien is yet, but it’s only a matter of time. You two could end up besieged,” Papa says, looking worried. 

“We’ll be fine, Papa. Adrien can wear a hat when we go out. That will help.”

“Alright, _ma belle_. Just be careful. And make sure you’re back by supper. Maman is planning on ordering something good in as a treat.”

“We’ll be back in plenty of time,” Marinette promises. She turns to Adrien. “Why don’t you go check your bags while I clean up?” Beneath the table, she scoops Tikki and Plagg up and then passes their kwamis discretely into Adrien’s lap. “We’ll take our tarts with us.”

“Sure.” Adrien gets up and moves into the living room.

“How’s he doing?” Papa asks Marinette in a low voice, clearly believing Adrien’s out of earshot. Marientte knows he’s not, and answers accordingly.

“He’s okay. I don’t think he’s fully wrapped his mind around what happened.”

“It will take a few days for it to sink in. That’s common.” Papa pats her hand, then shoots her a sly smile. “Maman and I couldn’t help but notice you weren’t in your bed this morning.”

Marinette reddens. “Adrien needed me. We didn’t do anything.”

He laughs. “Oh, Marinette, we know. I’m not mad, and neither is your maman. It’s hard enough sleeping in a new place without having to deal with the death of your only parent. I’m not surprised Adrien had a hard time last night. Maybe tonight we can set the air mattress up on the floor for you two. It’ll be more comfortable than the couch, at least. You two looked pretty squished.”

“Thanks, Papa. That would be great,” Marinette says. 

He pats her hand again and then gets up. “If you want to grab a couple more tarts for your friends on the way, go ahead.”

“Thanks,” Marinette says again. She stands and starts clearing off the table as her papa goes back downstairs to the bakery. Once everything has been tidied up, she heads upstairs to her room to take a quick shower. She comes back to her room wrapped in a towel, and freezes upon finding a certain cat curled up in her bed.

“Oops,” Adrien says.

“Oops? That’s all you’ve got to say?” Marinette clutches at the towel to make sure it still covers everything it’s supposed to be covering and glares at him.

He shrinks down. “Sorry. I was just – it was hard looking through my things and I missed you and your bed smells like you and I’m sorry.”

Marinette’s annoyance melts away like André’s ice cream left out in the sun. She should’ve stayed with him while he looked through his things, she thinks, and sighs. “Oh, Adrien, don’t be sorry. My room is always open to you. I just wasn’t expecting to find you here. Just… just turn around. I’ll get dressed.”

He cocks his head. “Do I have to turn around?” His smile is fragile, and there’s an uncertain gleam in his eyes, but she can tell that he means what he says.

And right then, Marinette knows that her kitty will be fine. It might take a long time. It might take a _really_ long time. But he’ll be okay. In spite of herself, she smiles a little. Mostly with relief, but also with humor. She can’t help wondering what Gabriel Agreste would think of his son right now. The spiteful part of her hopes that Gabriel is rolling over in his (metaphorical) grave.

“I’ll give you a quick peek and then you turn around,” she counters.

“Deal,” Adrien says, sitting up with more interest.

“And you can’t call me mean this time.”

Adrien rolls his eyes, blushing. “That was one time and I wasn’t expecting it!”

“Sure, sure,” Marinette mutters, taking a deep breath. She quickly loosens the top of the towel, pressing her arm tightly against her waist to keep it from falling any further. Adrien’s eyes go very wide as her breasts come into view, and he openly stares. She’s fully expecting the moment to be awkward, but it’s not. In fact, the awed look on Adrien’s face is… nice. Really nice. It makes her feel pretty and kind of sexy in a way she’s never felt before.

“So, um, there you go,” she says, pulling the towel back up. That was a lot longer than a quick look and they both know it. Her heart is racing again.

“Right,” Adrien says, dragging his eyes back up to her face with what looks like considerable effort. “I’m just… gonna turn around now. Okay.” He turns around as promised, facing her stuffed animals.

Marinette drops the towel for real then, rolling her eyes at their giggling kwamis, and quickly pulls on a bra and panties. Over that, she puts on black jeans and a green t-shirt decorated with black paw prints. Green ribbons in her hair complete her look. Lastly, she grabs a black bag and loops it over her head for Tikki and Plagg to hide in. She’ll load it up with cheese and cookes in the kitchen before they go.

“Okay, ready,” she says.

Adrien immediately turns back around and lets out a sound like a cat whose tail has been stepped on. “My Lady! You’re going to kill me!” he cries, looking at her chest and the black paw prints marching across. 

Plagg outright cackles and flies over to Marinette. “I will never bug you for cheese again if you let me be here when you show him that Chat Noir costume for the first time.”

“What, what? Chat Noir costume?” Adrien exclaims.

“ _Secret_ Chat Noir costume,” Marinette says with a frown at Tikki. Her kwami shrugs unrepentantly.

“What Chat Noir costume?” Adrien demands, nearly falling down the ladder from the bed in his haste.

“It’s for Halloween. I’ll show you later,” Marinette says, privately thinking that it’ll be much later. The costume is little more than sketches right now. She wants to have a working version to put on before Adrien sees it for the first time, simply because she thinks it’ll make his brain melt.

He pouts and whines, “I wanna see it now.”

“We can’t see it now. We have somewhere to go, remember?” she says gently, hating to see the humor disappear from his face. Sure enough, Adrien visibly deflates. 

“Right. Time to return the the Butterfly Miraculous to where it belongs,” he says quietly.


	22. Chapter 22

Marinette holds her hand out to Adrien and, looking resigned, he takes it. They descend to the kitchen, where she stocks up on cheese and cookies (just in case, she suspects it’ll be a long while before they stop being prepared for battle) and picks up their tarts. When they go down to the bakery, she takes two more and puts all four into a bakery box. Maman waves to them as they leave. 

By mutual decision, they decide to travel to Master Fu’s as Ladybug and Chat Noir. It only takes them a few minutes, and it means that they don’t have to risk anyone seeing Adrien. He keeps his head down as they emerge from an alley near the shop, a black cap pulled down low over his eyes. Marinette stays between him and the other people on the street and quickly knocks on Master Fu’s door.

Master Fu opens it. “I’ve been expecting you. Come in.”

“Thanks,” Marinette says, stepping inside. Adrien follows, breathing a sigh of relief as soon as the door is shut.

“Come, I’ve prepared tea.” Master Fu leads the way into the back of the shop. Marinette kneels at the table, setting her bakery box on top, and opens up her bag to let Tikki and Plagg out.

“Where’s Nooroo?” Adrien asks as he kneels beside her.

“Nooroo isn’t well,” Master Fu says, joining them. Waayz pops out of a pocket on his shirt, waving to Tikki and Plagg. “The past two years have not been kind to him, shall we say. He’s resting right now.”

Adrien’s hand tightens into a fist. “I’m sorry, Master Fu. I should have realized –”

Master Fu waves a hand, cutting him off. “Please, Adrien. There is no need for apologies. It was not your fault. I’m certain that Hawkmoth did everything he could to conceal both the miraculous and his kwami from your notice. As both of you know, it becomes easier with practice. He didn’t want you to know, and so you didn’t.”

Marinette covers Adrien’s fist with her hand. Then, with her free hand, she reaches into her bag and pulls out the Butterfly Miraculous. “Here you go, Master.”

“Thank you, Marinette. Thank you, Adrien. I am more grateful than I can express to finally have this back where it belongs.” Master Fu cups the miraculous in his shaking hands. “And I want to tell you, Adrien, that I am deeply sorry for how this turned out.”

“You couldn’t have known,” Adrien says roughly.

“I suspected,” Master Fu admits.

“What?” Marinette gasps.

“Gabriel Agreste was one of many on my suspect list. He had both the time and money to be Hawkmoth. But I could never be certain, which is why I didn’t share my suspicions with either of you.” Master Fu sighs as he sets the miraculous down and reaches for the pot of tea. He pours each of them a cup, including a cup to be shared amongst the three kwamis. 

“I had no idea,” Marinette says, shocked. She’s always known that Master Fu didn’t share everything with them, but this – she can’t believe he didn’t tell them, knowing that Adrien was Chat Noir.

“I didn’t want you to dwell on it,” Master Fu says gently, clearly knowing what she’s thinking. “It would’ve put Adrien in considerable danger if he’d tried to confirm my suspicions. I thought it best to wait until we had more proof one way or the other. Of course, I never could’ve foreseen a car accident.” He looks up at Adrien. “My sincerest condolences, Adrien.”

“You don’t have to act like you’re sad that he’s dead,” Adrien says. “He was a monster.”

Master Fu wisely doesn’t refute that. He just says, “Perhaps, but he was also your father. The loss of a parent frequently comes with confusing and conflicting emotions, and that’s not even counting the added layers of you two being Ladybug and Chat Noir and him being Hawkmoth.”

Adrien bows his head. His hand trembles. Marinette tightens her grip.

“Which is why,” Master Fu continues, “I wanted to ask if the two of you would be interested in speaking with someone about this.”

“Speaking with someone?” Marinette repeats, surprised.

He nods. “Being a miraculous holder can change how you see the world. When you face danger every day, not knowing whether you’ll live or die… whether the people you love will live or die… it takes a toll. You’ve both done spectacularly well so far, but I’m concerned.”

“We’re fine,” Marinette says, glancing at her partner. The words ring false even to her own ears. They’re not fine. They will be someday, but not right now. Especially Adrien.

“Please believe me, Marinette, when I say that you’re not,” Master Fu says, not unkindly. “I have seen many miraculous holders come and go. I’ve seen what battle and loss can do to them. I don’t want that to happen to you two. You’re the best Ladybug and Chat Noir that I’ve seen for a very long time.”

“The best ever,” Plagg pipes up from where he’s sneering at the tea.

Master Fu smiles at him. “The best ever,” he agrees. “I want you to stay that way.”

Marinette’s quiet for a moment, absently rubbing her thumb over Adrien’s clenched fingers. “Even if we agreed, who could we talk to? No one can know who we are, so that makes things a lot more difficult if we can’t be open and honest.” She pauses. “Unless you mean you want us to talk to you.” She hopes she doesn’t sound as dismayed by that as she feels. Master Fu is a good man, but he’s already proven that he keeps secrets from them. She’s not sure she can talk to him like that.

“No, of course not. I’m no therapist,” Master Fu says with a light laugh. “I have someone in mind, as a matter of fact. She wasn’t a miraculous holder, but she grew up knowing of the miraculous and their powers. She’s a fully trained psychologist and has been practicing for several years.”

“A friend of yours?” Marinette asks.

“My great, great-granddaughter, actually.”

“Your what?” Marinette and Adrien say together.

He chuckles. “I bet the two of you didn’t believe an old man like me could have a family, eh?” he asks.

Marinette sputters, blushing. “I – n-no, of course not! I didn’t – I mean!”

“You never talked about them,” Adrien says, mercifully saving her.

“When you live as long as I do, family is a complicated matter. I go back and visit every once in a while, but it’s hard for me to live near them. People start to wonder when a grandfather is around for several generations.” Master Fu is smiling, but it’s sad. “It’s also easier when people don’t wonder why your family never comes to visit. I like to think I don’t look nearly old enough to have a great, great-granddaughter.”

“You do first thing in the morning,” Plagg says.

“Plagg!” Adrien hisses.

“Yes, thank you Plagg,” Master Fu says, rolling his eyes. “I promise you, she’s very talented at what she does. Her name is Dr. Mei Fu. Look her up on the internet. She’s coming to Paris to stay with me for a while, so if you decide you want to talk to her you’ll have plenty of time.”

“We’ll think about it,” Marinette says. “But won’t people wonder when they see her?”

“Oh, probably. I’ll them she’s my granddaughter, here to keep watch over this old man. No one will think twice.” He smiles, looking pleased with himself. 

“May I use the bathroom, Master Fu?” Adrien says, glaring daggers at Plagg. Plagg is glaring right back.

“Of course.”

“Thank you.” Adrien gets up, grabs Plagg, and walks off.

As soon as she hears the bathroom close, Marinette leans forward. “Thank you for the offer, Master Fu. I think it would be good for Adrien to talk to someone,” she says earnestly. “His relationship with Gabriel was… complicated. The fact that Gabriel was Hawkmoth has only compounded an already touchy situation.”

At the very least, even if he doesn’t want to talk about the Hawkmoth aspect of things, Marinette thinks it would do her partner good to talk to someone about the abuse. The fact that Gabriel is dead now doesn’t erase the fact that it still happened. As much as she wants to, she can’t help Adrien the way that he needs to be helped. And she doesn’t want this to torment him for the rest of his life.

“It would be, but I also meant it for you, Marinette.”

“Do you really think I need it?” Marinette asks with a faint frown.

“You may not have had the past with Gabriel Agreste that Adrien did,” Master Fu says, and there’s something about the way he says it that makes Marinette think he knows more about the relationship between Gabriel and Adrien than he’s saying. “But what Gabriel did impacted you too. He was your enemy. He threatened your family and friends and the man you love. On top of all that, you were there when he died. That can leave a lasting impact in ways you may not consciously realize right now, particularly since you’re so focused on Adrien.”

“He needs me right now,” Marinette says defensively.

“I know he does. You are two halves of a whole, after all. Balanced, meant to support each other. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t take care of yourself. You can only be strong for him if you are strong yourself first.”

“He’s right, Marinette,” Tikki pipes up. “You should at least think about it.”

“I will,” Marinette says thoughtfully, picking up her cup of tea. She’s never seen a psychologist before, and is only vaguely aware of what would happen. She’s not sure how she’d feel talking to someone about being Ladybug, though. It’s been a secret for such a long time.

Master Fu picks up the Butterfly Miraculous again and stands. She watches as he opens up the phonograph and tenderly lays the miraculous to rest where it belongs. 

“Finally,” Master Fu says with a sigh. “You don’t know much this means to me.”

“We were glad to help,” Marinette says honestly, sharing a smile with Tikki. 

Adrien comes back, Plagg floating around behind him. “Marinette, I just got a text from Nino. He says Alya’s been trying to get a hold of you?”

“Oh, my phone is on silent…” Marinette grabs her phone, wincing when she sees the list of texts. Alya dropped by the bakery to find them, and now wants to know where they are since Papa told her that Marinette and Adrien were planning on seeing Alya and Nino today.

“Go ahead,” Master Fu says, smiling at them. “We can speak more later.”

“Thanks Master. We really will think about it,” Marinette says, taking Adrien’s hand as she clambers to her feet. 

“Please do. And again, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Adrien calls back, leading Marinette back through the shop. 

“Okay, I’ve appeased Alya. But we have to meet her and Nino at the park in twenty minutes,” Marinette says as they emerge into the sunlight.

“I figured that was going to happen.” Adrien’s quiet for a moment, putting his hands in his pockets. “What do you think? About his offer?”

Marinette locks her phone, sliding it into her pocket. “I’m leaning towards saying yes. It would probably be good for us. But I want to do some research first. Find out more about this woman. What about you?”

“The same. I’ve never been to a psychologist.”

“Me either.”

They look at each other, and then Adrien says quietly, “Do you think she’d tell Master Fu what we said?”

“I don’t know. I would hope not. Doctor-patient confidentiality and all that, right?” Marinette says. “We could ask her, I guess?”

“Yeah, maybe,” Adrien says, looking contemplative. Marinette wonders if he’s seriously considering the offer, and hopes that he is. She realizes that she might have to agree to it just to get Adrien to say yes; it’s unlikely that he’ll do it without her, and vice versa. Weird as it sounds, this is going to be a decision they’ll have to make together.

She links their arms together. “Let’s not think about it for now, okay? Alya said she and Nino want to go see a movie. We can get popcorn.”

“I’m not really that hungry yet.”

“Adrien, the point of a movie is to have popcorn!” She pokes him playfully in the ribs. “Besides, my love, you could stop to put a few extra pounds on.”

Adrien turns bright pink. “M-my l-love?”

“Well.” Marinette’s blushing too. “Well, you are, aren’t you?” 

“And here I thought the moaning and sighing would stop once you two got together,” Plagg drawls.

“Plagg!” Tikki hisses.

“And we’re going,” Marinette says, gently pulling Adrien along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to clarify, in this fic Gabriel did not have the Peacock miraculous and Nathalie is not Mayura (this fic was written way before all of that came out).


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With this chapter, I've readjusted the chapter count to accurately reflect how many chapters are left.

Marinette is woken up by the sound of a ringing phone. The arm draped over her waist disappears as Adrien answers it. She pries her eyes open, disoriented by the sight of the living room. Tikki, curled up on the pillow right beside Marinette’s cheek, yawns and rubs at her eyes. Her kwami looks as sleepy as Marinette feels, probably because Tikki spent the night sampling every cookie and pastry she could get her little paws on.

“What time is it?” Marinette whispers to her.

“It’s after nine.”

“After – after nine!” Marinette doesn’t mean to yell, especially since Adrien is on the phone, but she can’t help it. She’s scrambling for her phone, wondering if she forgot to turn her alarm on last night, when her maman appears at the entrance to the kitchen and beckons to her.

“Papa and I thought we’d let you have the day off after you had such a rough weekend,” Maman says as soon as Marinette’s inside the kitchen. She reaches out to smooth down Marinette’s bedhead. “Madame Sancoeur asked us to keep Adrien home from school this week. She thought that it might be too much for him. That’s probably her calling Adrien now.”

“Probably. I wonder if she’s made funeral arrangements yet.”

“Unless Monsieur Agreste left specific details about what he wants done, that may be why she’s calling Adrien.” Maman pauses. “I assume you’ll want to go to the funeral?”

“To be with Adrien,” Marinette says, nodding. She actually has zero interest in attending Gabriel’s funeral otherwise. They can throw his body in the dumpster for all Marinette cares. 

“I thought so. I imagine it’ll be this week, probably Wednesday or Thursday. Well, your papa and I have no problem with that so long as you keep up with your schoolwork. I want you to text Alya and have her bring your homework to you.”

“I will,” Marinette says, already unlocking her phone. She sends Alya a quick message.

Adrien comes into the kitchen, looking tired. “Nathalie said she wants to see me,” he says to Marinette. “Will you come?”

“Of course.”

He gives her a small smile. “She said she’d send a car. It should be here soon.”

“I’ll get dressed.” Marinette places her hand on his shoulder, giving it a quick squeeze, before she hurries upstairs. She dresses quickly, pulling on a light blue sundress. Her mind is racing, heart pounding. What will they do if Nathalie decides that Adrien will have to leave Paris?

“Marinette,” Maman calls. “He’s here!”

“I’m coming!” Marinette grabs her purse and flies down the steps so fast she trips. Adrien catches her before she can fall very far, easily bearing her weight.

“Be careful, Princess,” he says, amused.

“Sorry. I’m ready.” She straightens up, reaching up to tighten a ribbon on her pigtail. “Are you?”

“No,” Adrien admits. “But I know we have to have this talk sooner or later.” He takes her hand and they walk downstairs together. The car is waiting at the curb. Marinette slides in first, followed by Adrien.

It’s not that far to Adrien’s house. They could’ve easily walked. She discovers why they didn’t when the car gets close and she sees the handful of journalists lingering outside the gates. Marinette shrinks back with a gasp; Adrien wraps an arm around her shoulders and, even though the windows are tinted, pulls her down as an extra precaution. That doesn’t stop the journalists from taking pictures of the car as the gates open and they drive inside. 

“What do they want?” Marinette whispers.

“Pictures of me, probably,” Adrien mutters. “My father’s death would be big news in the fashion world. Nathalie warned me that they were out there.”

“Why can’t they just leave you alone?” Marinette demands indignantly. “What you’re going through is none of their concern.”

“Come on now, Bugaboo. You know the media better than that,” Adrien whispers back, giving her a meaningful look. Marinette frowns back. It’s true, she does understand better than most exactly how pushy journalists can be. She can think of at least five different occasions when she almost punched a journalist in the face, and several more where she and Chat were literally _fleeing_ from them. Not to mention some of the interviews they’ve done, where the questions grew uncomfortably personal very quickly.

Still, it doesn’t seem fair. They don’t know that Adrien isn’t grieving right now. He could be utterly devastated over the death of his father. It’s not news. Grief is personal, private, not meant to be splashed across newspapers and the internet. She really wants to march out there and give those people a piece of her mind. Only the knowledge that doing so would actually make it worse keeps her from actually doing it.

The driver parks around the back of the house. Nathalie is standing at the door waiting for them. She looks unsurprised to see Marinette, but says only, “Adrien, I need to speak with you alone. Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng is welcome to wait in your bedroom.”

Adrien doesn’t look happy at that, but Marinette squeezes his hand. “It’s fine. Come find me when you’re done, okay?” She walks past Nathalie and into the mansion. It’s actually pretty easy to find her way back to Adrien’s bedroom. It looks the same as it did the last time she saw it. Their controllers are still sitting on the couch. It’s hard to believe that their dinner with Gabriel was not that long ago.

She moves over to the couch and takes a seat. “Hey Tikki. Wanna play?”

Marinette’s purse pops over and Tikki bursts out. “Prepare to get your butt kicked!”

“Not gonna happen,” Marinette says with a grin, switching on both the television and the controller.

They play for a while and successfully beat every one of Adrien’s top scores. Marientte’s just finishing entering her name in the eighth spot when the door opens behind her. She drops the controller and turns around quickly as Tikki hides, her heart sinking at the blank expression on Adrien’s face. She can’t tell if he’s in shock or if he’s upset or some combination of the two.

“He left everything to me,” Adrien says before she can even get up, sounding slightly dazed. “The company, the money, his designs… it’s all mine.”

“Wow,” Marinette says softly. That effectively means Adrien is a millionaire now.

He shuts the door and moves over to take a seat on the bed. “Nathalie is supposed to look after me until I turn eighteen. She’s going to look after the company too. Run it, I mean. Definitely until I’m eighteen, but probably until I’m out of university and can take over for myself.”

“That’s good, right?” She moves to sit beside him. “You can stay in Paris.”

“Oh, yes. It’s a big relief.” He smiles briefly. “It’s just… I guess I never thought my father would trust me with everything. But then, who else would he have left it to? We have no other family. It’s not like he had any partners or anyone else he could trust. There’s Nathalie, but she’s never expressed an interest in designs. I’m the only person who can actually keep the company going.”

“If you want to, then yes. You’re the best choice,” Marinette says carefully. She can’t really tell what he’s thinking and it’s unnerving.

Adrien nods. “If I want to,” he repeats. His eyes brighten with tears. “He didn’t trust me, Marinette. He tried to keep me away from designing. He didn’t want me to have anything to do with it. Why should I keep his company alive?” He sobs once, a choked sound, and Marinette immediately pulls him into a hug as he breaks down into tears. Over Adrien’s shoulder, she catches sight of Plagg. The kwami looks sadder than she’s ever seen him, looking down at his Chosen as Adrien weeps.

They’re all quiet for several minutes, the only sound in the room that of Adrien’s crying and Marinette’s quiet attempts at reassuring him. She’s not really sure what to say, but the sound of her voice seems to help. Even Tikki flies over and perches on Adrien’s knee. Finally, though, Plagg seems to get impatient. 

“Kid, I think you _should_ keep the company alive,” Plagg says, flying down so that he can be seen by both Adrien and Marinette. “Your father was scared you’d be better than him? Fine. I think you and Bug should be the best damn designers this city has ever seen. Tear that company apart from the inside out and rebuild it the way _you_ want it. You’re destruction and creation for a reason, right?”

Marinette smiles at that, smoothing her hands down Adrien’s back. “I like the sound of that,” she says. “Catacylsm and Lucky Charm used in a whole different way.”

Adrien gives a damp snort. "My father would roll over in his grave," he says hoarsely. "I'm sure his intention was for me to take over and continue running the company exactly the way it is. He probably wants me to keep a similar theme in designs, too."

"Screw that," Plagg scoffs. "That dumbass had his day in the limelight and he chose to ruin it by being a horrible person."

"Plagg," Tikki says, sounding exasperated. "That's Adrien's father you're talking about."

"I know exactly who I'm talking about! There's no way you should keep living your life under his shadow when you don't have to, Kid. This is your choice to do everything you've ever wanted to do. I know you hate using your last name to smooth the way, but in this case I think you can make an exception." Plagg's tail lashes the air as he speaks, not unlike the way Chat's tail does when Chat gets overly excited.

"I didn't know you hated your last name," Marinette says, surprised.

Adrien shrugs, pulling back and wiping at his face with his sleeve. "It doesn't have a lot of great connotations for me," he admits. "And Plagg, I can't do anything with the company until I turn eighteen, remember?"

Plagg shrugs. "That gives you and Bug a year and a half to plan."

"Whoa, hey, leave me out of this," Marinette says, putting a hand up. "This is Adrien's company, not mine."

Adrien looks at her with a strange expression when she says that, but doesn't comment. "Nathalie also told me that she's arranged for the funeral to be on Thursday," he says quietly. "My father didn't leave any instructions for that, so it was up to me to decide. She asked whether I wanted to bury him or have him cremated. I chose to have him cremated. I don't... I don't think he deserves to be buried. I don't want people to remember him."

Marinette bites her lip, then hugs him again. "I think whatever you chose to do is fine. He's the one who chose not to leave instructions."

"Of course he didn't. He thought he'd get our miraculous and wouldn't have to deal with dying," Adrien says bitterly, hugging her back. "It's going to be a short ceremony, but there will be a lot of people there. Will you... would you be there?"

"Oh, _Mon minou_ , of course I will. I'll be by your side the whole time," Marinette promises, tightening her grip. "Whatever you need from me."

He lets out a shuddery breath. "I don't know what I need, honestly. Part of me still can't believe this is happening. My father always seemed like one of those people who was going to live forever. I never thought I would be having to plan his funeral. I can't even begin to figure out what he would have wanted; I didn't know him well enough for that. We certainly never talked about it. I don't even know what his favorite color or flower was." His voice cracks. "I couldn't give Nathalie any help at all."

"Nathalie didn't know either?" Marinette asks.

Adrien shakes his head. "No. It's not like she and Père ever had those conversations either. I'm sure she'll make it simple and tasteful, probably."

"It's more than he deserves," Plagg mutters, echoing Marinette's thoughts perfectly.

"If you don't know what he wanted, then you can't get it wrong," Tikki says, shooting Plagg a dirty look.

"I... that's true," Adrien says, blinking at Tikki. "I didn't think about it like that."

Tikki smiles up at him. "Funerals are never easy, Adrien. Plagg and I have seen a lot of them."

"You have?" Marinette asks. "For... for Ladybugs and Chat Noirs?"

"No. Well, yes. Sometimes. But for their friends or families, or sometimes just funerals they had to attend for the sake of propriety. I'm actually interested to see what a Parisian funeral is like, and how it's changed."

Adrien looks interested. "What did they used to be like?"

Good job Tikki, Marinette thinks to herself. Tikki winks at her when Adrien's not looking. They listen to Tikki talk for almost an hour, with the occasional interjection from Plagg - although all Plagg ever seems to remember is whether or not the food was any good. It's actually really interesting to hear all about the different funeral rites. Marinette always knew their kwamis had lived for literally hundreds of years, but it's something else entirely to hear proof of it. Tikki's memories go all the way back to Ancient Egpyt, when the Pharaohs were around. She describes an entombing with with such perfect accuracy that Marinette is torn between fascination and revulsion.

"They really did that?" she asks. "Ugh, Tikki. I'm going to have nightmares now."

"Don't worry," Plagg drawls. "I'm sure your knight will be happy to cuddle you all night long to protect you from nightmares."

"Always," Adrien says, wrapping an arm around Marinette's shoulders. "On that note, I'm ready to get out of here. I hate this room. I hate this _house_. I may talk to Nathalie about selling this place."

Marinette can't say she's surprised by that. This is where Adrien grew up, and he probably had some good memories of it once, but those memories have all been soured by the last couple of years. Between his mother leaving, his father abusing him, and Hawkmoth, she can't blame him for not wanting to live here anymore. She would probably feel the exact same way, and there's no point in a home like this standing empty. She stands up and extends her hands to help him up, then leans up and gives him a kiss to show her silent support.

"The funeral, Adrien," she says quietly. "Is it okay if our classmates come?"

Adrien looks surprised. "They'd want to?"

"Of course. Alya and Nino for sure, but probably everyone else too. You're their friend. They'll come to support you, just like I will."

"If... if they want to, that would be nice," Adrien says hesitantly. "I'd like to have people there for me, not just people who are there because they want to be seen, or because they think it'll curry favor for them."

"I'm sure they will," Marinette says, making a mental note to send Alya a text the instant she's got a moment to herself. Alya will make sure that as many people in their class come as possible. Maybe she can even get Madame Bustier to come. Adrien has a real fondness for their teacher. Even Master Fu might come; he's spiteful like that.

He smiles at her. "I'm gonna grab a few things before we go."

"Take your time," Marinette tells him, sitting back down. She watches as he packs a few more things, smiling to herself when he grabs the video game - she can't wait to see his reaction later.


	24. Chapter 24

When Adrien's ready, they take the car back to the bakery. The driver takes a deliberately winding route back, hoping to confuse anyone who might be following them. Marinette knows it's only a matter of time until people figure it out. There's only so many places Adrien could be, and she and Adrien haven't exactly hidden their relationship. She wonders, but doesn't ask, if Adrien ever plans to address the media, or if he plans to remain quiet on the subject. She wouldn't blame him if he chose to do the latter. It's not like he would have favorable things to say.

“I just can’t believe the business is mine,” Adrien says again as they pull up in front of the bakery. 

“You know what, you sound like you need a distraction,” says Marinette. “What would you like to do this afternoon?”

He looks completely blank as they get climb out of the car. “Thank you,” he says to his driver, and then to Marinette, “What do you mean, what do I want to do?”

It takes Marinette a few seconds to figure out why he’s so confused, since it’s a pretty straightforward question. Then she realizes that it’s probably been a long time since anyone has asked Adrien that queston, if ever. Usually every minute he’s awake is scheduled with school, lessons, photoshoots, public appearances or any of the other myriad of things he does at his father’s insistence, or he’s sleeping or being Chat Noir. She wonders when was the last time Adrien had a couple hours free.

“Did Nathalie mention your lessons to you?” Marinette asks. Normally they’d be at school right now, of course. But even after school let out, he’d have something to run off to.

“No. I didn’t think to ask. I don’t even know where I was supposed to be this afternoon; I’d have to look.”

“Then we’re going to take that as permission to do what we want,” Marinette says decisively, leading him around the back way. They enter the bakery through the staff entrance, which lets them bypass all of the customers. Marinette sticks her head in the kitchen and waits until her papa catches her eye, then gives him a quick wave to let him know that they’re back. He smiles, waving back.

“What are we doing?” Adrien asks when Marinette pulls back.

“We have a few options. We can play video games, or we can watch more trashy movies, or we can go out for a run.”

“A run,” Adrien says immediately, brightening. “I so rarely get the chance to be Chat Noir during the day when there’s no akuma around.”

Marinette nodds. “Of course. I’ll tell Papa that we’re busy and not to disturb us.” She steps around the corner and moves over to her papa, whispering their plans in his ear. He gives her a nod without ever stopping; even as Marinette turns back, the familiar _thump_ of a ball of dough that’s twice the size of her head hitting the table follows her out.

“I’m gonna run upstairs and change into something comfier. We might be in a rush when we come back, and if they see me Maman and Papa will wonder why I’m relaxing in this dress. I’ll be right back,” she says to Adrien.

He looks at her and smiles slowly, leaning in. “Can I watch?”

Blushing, Marinette puts her index finger on his nose and gently pushes him back. “Down, kitty. Not this time. You should change too. They’ll wonder the same thing about you.”

“You mean it’s not so you can watch me change, then?”

She sputters and he laughs. Marinette glares at him and flees the room before she can get herself in trouble by saying yes. It’s certainly not an unappetizing thought, based on what she saw after his shower, but she also knows that this isn’t the time. Not in the middle of the day with her parents right downstairs, and not when Adrien’s going through such an emotional upheaval. 

“You two tease each other a lot,” Tikki observes as Marinette pulls off her dress.

“We’ve always done that,” Marinette points out, happily taking off her bra. She’s gone out in just her pajamas enough times to know that the suit provides more than enough _support_ on its own.

“But you do it more now. You never used to tease about sex.”

The word makes Marinette stumble in the middle of pulling a t-shirt on. She flounders a bit, struggling to find the hole, before her head pops through. “W-Well, that was – it was d-different then, Tikki. I didn’t know who he was then. And I didn’t know if Chat meant it when he flirted. I know how he feels now. He loves me.” She feels warm all over, just saying the words. “So… I guess I feel more comfortable teasing him that way.”

“I like it,” Tikki announces. “It’s nice seeing the two of you so comfortable with each other.”

Marinette smiles, pulling a pair of sweatpants on. “We were always comfortable with each other, but I guess there’s an extra layer to that now. Adrien knows me better than anyone else in the world. And I like to think the same goes for him.”

“Of course it does. You’re two halves of a whole. Ladybug and Chat Noir are meant to be together.”

“You mean… the two of us falling in love was pre-determined?” Marinette says, turning around with a frown.

Tikki shakes her head. “Not at all. There have plenty of Ladybugs and Chat Noirs who weren’t in love with each other. Sometimes they were already married to other people when they took up their miraculous. People used to marry much younger, you know. You would have a husband already if you’d been alive when my last Ladybug was.”

“Married? Me?” Marinette says, baffled at the very idea. She’s only sixteen. She knows that she’s going to marry Adrien someday, but that’s _someday_. As in, the future. 

“Yup. Sometimes they were from different class structures, which was always a pain. Sometimes they just didn’t like each other that way, but that was okay. Love, no matter what form it comes in, is one of the strongest forces that exist in this world. It doesn’t matter if it’s romantic or platonic.” Tikki pauses, then sighs dreamily. “Though I have to admit, I’m rather excited at getting to see another Ladybug and Chat Noir get married. It’s been so long…”

“You’re going to be waiting a while, you know,” Marinette says, eyeing her kwami. “Adrien and I are too young to get married. Maman and Papa would have a fit.”

“I can wait,” Tikki says, a mischevious sparkle in her eyes. “I’ve waited a couple hundred years, what’s another year or two?”

“A year or two?! It’ll be way longer than that!”

Tikki laughs at her. “Okay, Marinette. Sure.”

“It will!”

Tikki laughs harder. Marinette pouts and grabs a cushion from her chaise, lobing it gently at her kwami. Of course, Tikki darts out of the way and the cushion hits a stack of fashion magazines that Marinette’s been keeping for reference purposes. The stack topples over, taking out a couple bolts of fabric, her water bottle, several pencils, and the little bed she keeps on her desk for Tikki.

As the dust settles, the trap door raises up and Adrien’s panicked face appears. “My Lady?!”

“I’m fine. Just being my typical clumsy self,” Marinette says, walking over to pick up the bed. “Ready to go?”

“Mhm. Changed and got my kwami all cheese’d up.” Adrien grins, pushing the door up the rest of the way and mounting the steps. He lets it fall shut behind him and Plagg and then kneels, sliding the lock home.

“Perfect. Tikki, spots on!”

“Plagg, claws out!”

Ladybug climbs up onto her bed and opens the window. She crawls out, Chat hot on her heels, and tosses out her yoyo. It wraps around a chimney half a block away; a quick flick of the wrist and she’s smoothly yanked off of her balcony, arching gracefully through the air. Chat laughs somewhere behind her, and she knows that if she were to turn around, she’d see him using his baton to vault up the street after her.

She lands on a rooftop and starts to run with no particular destination in mind. It just feels really good to let her feet do the thinking for her, giving her frantic brain a rest. She jumps and runs for hours, always keeping Chat in her peripheral vision, until she’s covered half of Paris and her lungs are burning and she’s sweating right through her suit. Only then does she stop, chest heaving with exertion.

Chat bolts by her with another laugh, leaping heedlessly off the building. In the daylight, his black suit stands out like a reverse beacon. He does a spectacular roll-and-twist in mid-air before landing on the other side. He glances back at her with a clear challenge in his eyes. Ladybug grins, backs up a couple steps, and sprints towards the edge. She does a handstand off the side and uses her yoyo to propel herself back up, doing a couple of flips before she lands right beside him.

“Hi,” she says, nose to nose with him.

“Hi,” he says back. “Wanna race to the Eiffel Tower?”

“Sure. Oops.” Ladybug giggles as she lightly pushes him; he falls backwards with a startled squawk, and she takes off running.

“Cheater!” he yells at her back.

“I can’t hear you over the sound of me winning!” Ladybug shouts over her shoulder, still giggling to herself. She doesn’t use her yoyo, instead relying purely on the burn of her muscles to take her ever close to the famous landmark. 

She and Chat get there at the same time. He grabs her around the waist and she lets out a shriek that has many Parisians turning to look at them. Ladybug doesn’t get the chance to reassure them, because then Chat is tucking her under his arm and grabbing his baton with the other. He launches them into the air, prompting another shriek, until they’re hundreds of miles up in the span of seconds and the baton vanishes beneath him. The distance between them and the Tower feels too far, but Chat’s already leaping forward before her panic can start to set in. He lands effortlessly on the beam.

“I win,” he says smugly.

“I got here first,” she counters.

“Ah, but my feet touched the Tower first,” Chat says. Ladybug looks down and has to admit he’s not wrong: her feet are dangling several inches above the beam. She squirms around until he sets her down.

“Gosh, it feels good to be out and about again,” she says, looking out over the city. “And to know that we don’t have to worry about any more akumas… it’s kind of amazing. Uh, I mean – I don’t think your dad’s death is amazing or anything like that –”

“It’s fine, Bugaboo. I know what you meant,” Chat says, smiling at her. “It _is_ kind of amazing. I keep thinking I’m going to wake up halfway through the night to an akuma attacking. But we never have to wory about that again.”

Ladybug closes her eyes, enjoying the way the breeze feels against her hot skin. It rustles her hair, lifting her pigtails and cooling her neck. Never again. Her heart feels so much lighter at the knowledge that people in Paris are free now to feel the way they want to feel. No one has to be scared of being angry or sad. It’s like a weight has slipped off of her shoulders, a really heavy weight that she wasn’t fully conscious of until it was gone.

“Hey Mari?”

“What?” Ladybug looks at him, her smile fading at the unusually serious look on Chat’s face.

“I think… I think I really hate my father.”

“Chat?” She turns fully towards him, concerned and confused.

“He tried to hurt you so many times,” Chat says softly, looking out over the city. “He tried to hurt so many innocent people just because he thought that what he wanted mattered more than anything else. When I think about the times I almost lost you… because of _him_ …” He trails off, voice choked up.

“Chat… don’t hate him just because of me,” Ladybug whispers. “I’m not worth that.”

Chat laughs at that, a bitter, mirthless sound. “Oh, Ladybug. If you only knew. You’re everything to me. But… it’s not even just you. It’s everything. He never cared about me. Not really. I was a means to an end. People couldn’t think badly of him for my mom leaving if he still had the perfect son to hide behind. Sometimes I wonder what would’ve happened when I got too old to control. I suppose he thought that by then, he’d have our miraculouses and it wouldn’t matter anymore.”

He sighs then, and turns to her. “Do you know what Plagg told me?”

“No, what?”

“He said that in order to use the Ladybug and Chat Noir miraculous to make a wish, there had to be a balance. If he got my mom back, something else had to be given up in her place. Do you ever think he thought about that? I mean, really thought about it? That someone else would have to suffer just to make his wish come true? That someone might’ve ended up dead? Maybe even you or me? Did he care even a little bit about that?”

Ladybug nervously twines the end of a pigtail around her finger. She hates to say it, but, “No, probably not.”

“Exactly. He just didn’t care about anything except my mom.” Chat purses his lips, eyes cold. “I remember the man he used to be when I was a kid, and I love him. I remember him laughing with me, and taking me for ice cream. But what that man turned into… I really _hate him_. Does that make me a terrible person?”

“What?! No!” Ladybug exclaims, immediately moving closer. “Chat, of course not. You have every right to feel however you want to feel about him. Especially after what he did.”

“But I hate my father,” Chat says, looking at her. “That’s terrible.”

“I don’t think so. He was a terrible person, and you’re a good person.” She takes his hand, intertwining their fingers. This is so hard. “I… I think that as much as I wish it weren’t true, not every person is a good person. Sometimes we wind up related to those bad people. Sometimes they’re not who we thought they were. And I think part of growing up is recognizing those people for what they are, and having your opinion of them change accordingly. In your case, it’s just… a little more extreme.”

Chat’s quiet for a long moment. “Is it bad that I’m glad he’s dead?” he says, so quietly she has to strain to hear. “So I don’t have to deal with… with everything?”

“No, _Chaton_ , it’s not.” She thinks about how complicated it would’ve been, turning Gabriel Agreste over to the police, and how hard it would’ve been on Adrien, having to endure a trial. Having to go through the public scrutiny, the condemnation, the scorn, the _blame_. Having to testify against his own father, as both Chat Noir and himself. Having to try and pick up and move on after the fact.

Did Gabriel ever consider how awful that would be? Or was he so sure that he would that he just didn’t care? Maybe Chat’s right. Maybe his father never really cared about him. Maybe all Gabriel saw in Adrien was a reminder that Émilie was gone. Or maybe Marinette was right, and Gabriel was just jealous that Adrien is so talented at designing. It makes her head, and her heart, hurt to think about it all.

A very small part of Ladybug hopes that Plagg really did curse Gabriel, because he deserved it.

“But in a way, I wish he wasn’t dead. He never had to face the consequences for his actions,” Chat says. He sounds tired. “Not as Hawkmoth, or as himself.”

“Would you have wanted him to?” Ladybug asks, genuinely curious. “Would you have wanted people to know what he did?”

“No,” Chat says immediately. “I didn’t even want you to know. You just know me well enough to know that something was wrong.” He shoots her a small smile. “That’s why… I’m glad he’s dead. It just makes everything a lot easier. I just wish it didn’t have to be this way.”

“Oh, Chat. I wish that too.” Ladybug hugs him then, wrapping her arms around his slender shoulders. He leans into her, resting his head on her shoulder. They sit down together, Chat half in her lap, and she gently runs her fingers through his hair.

“It’s just so hard,” Chat whispers. “I never saw this coming. I always thought we’d face Hawkmoth on the battle field. I thought that either we’d win, or we’d go out in a blaze of glory.”

“You thought we might die?”

He shrugs. “It crossed my mind once or twice. I hoped we’d win. I hoped…” He trails off.

“Hoped what?” Ladybug asks.

“Hoped that if you died, I wouldn’t survive,” he admits. “I couldn’t survive without you, My Lady.”

Ladybug has to blink away tears. “I know, _Mon minou_. I always wanted to think positively, but sometimes… I did wonder. Hawkmoth is just so strong. Was so strong,” she corrects herself, because as hard as it is to accept that Gabriel Agreste is dead, sometimes it feels even harder to accept that _Hawkmoth_ is dead. “I wanted us to win so badly, but this scenario never even crossed my mind.”

“Maybe it’s fitting. The great Hawkmoth, killed by something as mundane as a car crash,” Chat says. He turns his head to look at her. “But you know what bothers me the most?”

“What?”

“He honestly thought that I would be okay with taking over for him. He never would’ve given me the Butterfly miraculous otherwise. He thought he could hand me that and say it was all for Mère, and that I’d automatically jump on board. That’s one of the reasons why I think he didn’t care about me, because he didn’t even know me. Even if I wasn’t Chat Noir, I would never be okay with that. As much I miss my mother, I couldn’t hurt people like that.”

“And _that_ is how I know you’re a good person,” Ladybug whispers, leaning forward to gently bump their noses together. “You were brilliant, by the way. I’ll never forget the look on his face when you told him who you are.”

Chat smiles just a little. “In that moment… I was so angry. I could’ve punched him right in his stupid face. I’ve never been that mad in my _life_!”

“I know.” Ladybug strokes his hair again. “I’m really proud of you, you know.”

“You are? Why?”

“Because I can’t even begin to imagine how hard this has been for you. I wouldn’t have blamed you if you decided you were done with the world, curled up into a ball and just gave up. But you haven’t. You kept going. You’re so strong, Chat. I’m really proud to call you my partner.”

His eyes are wide, and he looks at her with something between awe and amusement. “Are you kidding me? I would be a sobbing mess without you, My Lady. I’m only keeping it together because I have you to fall back on.”

Ladybug shakes her head. “Nice try. You’re a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

“I’m really not.”

“We’ll just have to agree to disagree,” she says, this time booping him on the nose with her finger. “Still doesn’t change the fact that I’m proud of you.”

The tips of his human ears color. “Thanks. Not just for this, but for everything. For giving me a place to sleep at night, and being there with me when he died, and standing at my side. I really would be losing without you.”

“We’re partners, _Chaton_. I’ll always be at your side,” Ladybug says. She means it with all of her heart. There is nothing in this world that could separate her from Chat’s side at this point, and she’s fully willing to throw down with anyone who tries. 

“I know. Some days, that was the only thing that made me get out of bed,” Chat whispers. “The thought that you needed me, and that, if nothing else, I had to be there for you.” He wraps an arm around her neck, pulling her down into a hug. Ladybug hugs him back as hard as she can, breathing out shakily. She swears to herself that she won’t cry this time even as her eyes are misting up.

“I do need you,” she says. “I need you so much.”

“I need you too.”

They sit there and hug for a long time, rocking back and forth, until the distinct beeping of a miraculous makes Ladybug pull back and wipe at her face, sniffing. She’s shocked to see that the sun is starting to go down. That means they’ve been out for hours. Her parents are going to be taking their supper break soon. They won’t be happy if they knock on her door and no one answers.

“We have to go, Chat. Maman and Papa are going to be calling us for supper soon,” she says.

Chat smiles even as he wipes at his own eyes. “I like hearing you say that. I always used to get jealous of your family. I tried not to, but I… I just wished that for once, I could know what it was like to sit at a table and have a family. And now I do, thanks to you.”

“You have a family. You have me,” Ladybug says, cupping his cheek. Her thumb brushes away some lingering wetness from beneath his right eye. “And you have Alya and Nino, and Maman and Papa. You’re always welcome at our table.”

“You may never get rid of me at this rate,” Chat jokes.

Ladybug looks him dead in the eyes. “You say that like that’s not exactly what I’m planning on,” she says, completely straight-faced and serious. And then, while his mouth is hanging open in shock, she pats his cheek and rolls off the side of the Eiffel Tower.


	25. Chapter 25

It's one of Ladybug’s favorite things to do, this kind of free-fall. She hears another beep in her ear, Tikki’s way of telling her to stop playing around, and blindly throws out her yoyo. She feels the sudden tension in the string shortly before her body jolts, though thanks to the magic of the suit it doesn’t hurt at all. The force of the fall sends her sailing forward, and she gets a stunning view of Paris at sunset for several tantalizing seconds before she has to put her focus into getting back to her balcony before she detransforms.

She lands on the balcony with enough force that she stumbles a bit, sitting down hard on her chaise. Red light appears around her waist and sweeps up before she can even catch her breath. Tikki appears and flutters down into Marinnette’s cupped hands with a low, exhausted sound. Marinette smiles, setting her kwami in her lap and scanning the skyline.

Chat comes into view quickly, bounding over rooftops. He makes a jump that even Ladybug would hesitate to make, his long, strong legs propelling him effortlessly forward. He catches the railing with his claws and swings himself up and over to land easily, straightening up with a careless grin. She makes a face at him and he grins wider, muttering the words to detransform.

“Cheeeese,” Plagg wails immediately, and Adrien rolls his eyes.

“Of course you can have cheese. You did very good today,” Marinette says, and Plagg scrambles over to join Tikki in her lap. He hugs Marinette’s leg and glares at Adrien.

“She’s so much nicer than you,” he grumbles.

Adrien shrugs. “Yeah well, I’m the one who supplies the Camembert.” He sits down next to Marinette, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

Marinette smiles to herself and starts petting their kwamis, devoting a hand to each of them. She knows that Tikki likes being stroked on the back, but it seems that Plagg is susceptible to belly scratches: it takes less than ten seconds of being petted for Plagg to roll over, arms splayed in all directions. Adrien rolls his eyes and shakes his head, but Marinette catches the tiny smile playing around his lips. 

“Did you mean it?” he asks suddenly, looking out at Paris, and Marinette doesn’t have to ask what he’s referring to.

“Of course, _Ma moitié_ ,” she whispers, leaning her head on his shoulder. His arm tightens around her.

“Marinette, I –”

“Marinette!” Papa’s voice calls. They both jump.

“Up here, Papa!” Marinette calls, casually draping an arm around Plagg and Tikki just in case. “Adrien and I are watching the sun set.”

“Come on down. It’s dinnertime.”

“We’re coming!”

Adrien looks as reluctant to move as she feels, but Marinette knows it won’t be long before her parents call for them again. She pats his hand and gets up, not surprised when he immediately moves to follow. They go downstairs and have a nice, peaceful meal with her parents. In spite of their reluctance, a family meal, she thinks to herself as Maman spoons some more soup into Adrien’s bowl, is probably exactly what Adrien needed.

They spend Tuesday helping out in the bakery, after a couple of workers call in sick due to the bad summer cold that’s going around. Her parents never mention Marinette going back to school without Adrien, and she quickly decides not to look a gift horse in the mouth. She knows Adrien isn’t going back until the following Monday, and if her parents are willing to let her have that time off too, well. She’s not going to rock the boat.

Adrien is a natural out front, smiling disarmingly at the customers. Several female customers buy more than they would have otherwise, and the bakery is sold out by the end of the night. Marinette, who’s been helping out in the back, has to stop herself from laughing when Maman seriously asks Adrien if he wants a job. Adrien goes bright red and stutters something unintelligible, looking so embarrassed that it’s honestly hilarious, especially when Maman tells him he can come help out anytime.

Marinette’s never really wanted to take over the bakery, but that night she realizes she could see it. Laying in Adrien’s arms, with the sound of his soft snores in her ears, she can see the two of them manning the bakery together. Marinette in the back, Adrien alternating between the front and helping her to bake. It’s not her first choice, not by a long shot, but she thinks they could both be very happy that way.

“I’d like to learn to bake,” Adrien says during lunch on Wednesday. He looks tired from serving customers all morning, but invigorated too. The work, the distraction, has been good for him.

“Papa would happily teach you,” Marinette says, popping her last bite of bread into her mouth. 

"Really?" Adrien perks up a little. 

"Are you kidding me? Papa!" Marinette twists around. "Papa, Adrien says he wants to learn to bake!"

There's a rumbling from down below. Footsteps thud up the stairs. Papa bursts into the room, looking ecstatic. "Adrien, my boy! Come with me! I'll have you baking in no time!"

Marinette giggles to herself as her bewildered-looking partner is promptly dragged out of his chair and down the stairs. "At least we can be sure Adrien will sleep well tonight."

Plagg snickers as he floats up and over to Adrien's plate to snag the last piece of cheese. "Kid's never baked a day in his life. Your papa has his work cut out for him."

"He taught me, so he can definitely teach Adrien," Marinette says, remembering all the mistakes she made when she was first starting out. Heck, all the mistakes she still makes on a regular basis when she's being her typical clumsy self, or trying to rush too much. Baking is an art, but it's also a science. She thinks Adrien will enjoy that aspect of it of a lot. 

She gets up, clearing away the dishes, and then heads downstairs with a kwami hiding in each of her apron pockets. With Adrien fully occupied in the back, she moves out front to help out her maman. The afternoon passes by in a whirlwind of customers, and she doesn't even realize what time it is until the bell twinkles and Marinette looks up with a greeting that dies on her lips, unvoiced, when she's faced with Chloé's familiar sneer. The two girls stare at each other for a long moment, speechless, before Maman straightens up from where she's putting fresh pastries into the display case.

"Welcome to the Dupain-Cheng Bakery. What can I get for you?" Maman asks, shooting a frown at Marinette.

Chloé's nose wrinkles. "Ugh, nothing. I just want to talk to Adrien."

"Adrien's busy," Marinette says, folding her arms.

"Marinette," Maman says chidingly. "I'll get Adrien."

Marinette scowls as Maman slips into the kitchen, and says, "What do you want?"

"None of your business."

"It is my business if you're going to make things worse for him," Marinette snaps, folding her arms across her chest. "He's having a hard time right now."

Chloé's eyes narrow. "You don't _own_ him," she says icily. "In fact, I seem to recall you telling me that Adrien was his own person."

Marinette grinds her teeth. "Look -"

"Chloé?" Adrien pokes his head out, looking surprised. "What are you doing here?" 

"Adrikins..." Chloé's demeanor changes immediately. "I heard about your father. I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"It's been hard, but Marinette's been helping me a lot." Adrien steps out, moving to stand next to Marinette, and puts an arm around her shoulders so naturally it's like he's not even aware he's doing it. Chloé's eyes track the movement, then flick over Adrien. Her frown deepens as she takes in the apron Adrien's wearing, the light dusting of flour covering his hair, and the streak of butter on his right cheek.

"You don't have to stay here, Adrikins. There's plenty of room at the hotel. I promise that Daddy won't expect you to work for your keep," Chloé says.

Marinette bristles, but Adrien just laughs. "Chloé, don't be silly. I asked Marinette's papa to teach me how to bake. It's actually a lot of fun."

"Fun?" Chloé says, the same way some people would say 'sludge' or ‘garbage’. 

"Yes, fun," Adrien says. He seems to pick up on the tension, adding, "Why don't we talk outside?"

"That's fine with me. I might catch something if I stay in here any longer."

"Why you little -"

"Chloé," Adrien says loudly, cutting Marinette off. "That's unkind and you know it. Come on." He squeezes Marinette's shoulder and then rounds the counter, taking Chloé's arm and guiding her out of the bakery.

The second the door closes behind them, Marinette slams a hand down on the counter. "I _do not_ like that girl, oh my god. She's such a bitch!"

"She was insinuating the bakery is infested!" Tikki sounds totally indignant as she pops out of the apron. 

"My parents would never let that happen! We always score the highest when the health inspector comes!" Marinette stamps her foot, glaring at the door. She really wants to know what Adrien and Chloé are saying to each other, but it's probably not cool to eavesdrop no matter how much she wants to. Besides, Adrien would probably see her - and her maman would get mad if she left the front of the store unmanned.

"Relax. Chloé's always been like that, for as long as I've known her," Plagg says, emerging from the other pocket. "The only thing she likes is Adrien."

"That doesn't make it right," Marinette says, frowning so hard her face hurts. She glares at the door. "What if she hurts him?"

"Relax, Bug. Didn't you hear what I just said? The only thing she likes is Adrien. Chloé won't risk pissing him off," Plagg tells her.

"You don't know that for sure! Plagg, go out there and listen to them!"

"What?!" Plagg squeaks.

Tikki nods. "Marinette's right. You should be with Adrien anyway, just in case something happens."

"They're right there," Plagg says, exasperated, pointing to the window. Marinette looks at him and then scrambles over to the window to see. She realizes that Plagg is right. Adrien is standing just to the right of the window, talking to Chloé.

"How did you know?" she hisses, crouching down. Tikki rushes over beside her, watching just as avidly as Marinette.

Plagg shrugs, floating behind them. "Adrien would never go very far without me or you."

Marinette's barely listening, her entire focus on Adrien and Chloé. She can't read lips, and the glass is too thick to be able to hear what they're saying. But Adrien doesn't look too upset. He's got his arms at his sides, his shoulders are relaxed, and there's a neutral expression on his face. Chloé, on the other hand, has her arms folded across her chest and is talking. Marinette would bet good money that Chloé is still trying to convince him to go back to the hotel with her and it makes her mad all over again; Adrien is perfectly fine where he is!

Chloé talks for a long time, probably at least five minutes. Adrien stays quiet, letting her have her say. After a couple minutes, he reaches out and puts his hands on Chloé's shoulders. He says a few things to her, and Marinette can tell that Chloé doesn't like it. Chloé's whole face goes red and her eyes fill with tears. It doesn't take a genius to guess that Adrien is probably confirming that he and Marinette are dating now.

And as mad as she is, Marinette can't help feeling a tiny bit bad when the first tear spills over and rolls down Chloé's cheek. She knows how it feels to know someone doesn't love you. It sucks. Chloé's a bitch, and possibly a little crazy, but that awful feeling of being rejected still sucks big time. Especially in this case, since Marinette can remember how passionate Chloé was when she was talking about her imagined future with Adrien. It's not like Marinette can blame her: she, of all people, knows exactly how easy Adrien Agreste is to love.

Finally, Chloé shakes her head. She pushes Adrien's hands off her shoulders and turns away, walking quickly towards the limo that's waiting for her. Adrien doesn't try to stop her, just stands there with his hands in his pockets and watches her go. The limo pulls away from the curb and still Adrien stands there, only now his focus is on the sky like he's looking for something. Then, suddenly, his shoulders slump. Marinette is confused for all of ten seconds until it dawns on her that Adrien is watching for an akuma, because of course he is. 

A week ago, Chloé totally would've ended up akumatized over this.

Adrien turns around, looking downcast. Their eyes meet and Marinette stands up quickly, moving to open the door of the bakery, asking, "Are you okay?"

"That was awful," Adrien admits, opening his arms to her. Marinette hugs him.

"I'm sorry," she says softly.

"I hated to do that. But I had to tell her."

"You did."

"Should I not have said anything?"

"Adrien, no. She needed to know. I'm sure Alya's told everyone at school anyway. It's still better that Chloé heard it from you." Marinette pulls back slightly, examining his face. He manages a smile.

"I was waiting for her to be akumatized."

"I was too, kind of," Marinette says. 

"I'm glad she won't be," Adrien says, quietly but fiercely. "The people of Paris deserve the chance to feel what they want or need to feel without having to worry about someone feeding off their negative emotions. I would feel _horrible_ if Chloé got akumatized because I had to tell her I don't like her that way." 

"It wouldn't have been your fault if she had been," Marinette tells him. "But I'm glad too. Not even Chloé deserves that."

Adrien dredges up a small smile at that. "Can I have another hug?"

"Always." She hugs him again, tighter this time, using all of her strength because Adrien can take it the way a normal person can't, and doesn't let go until he relaxes.

"You know what I want to do?" he mumbles into her hair.

"What, _Chaton_?"

"I want to go finish making my cookies."

He sound so pathetically woebegone that Marinette can't help giggling. "Of course. I'm sure Papa put them aside for you. He's probably waiting for you to come back to finish them." 

“Thanks, Marinette.”

“You’re welcome, though I didn’t do much.”

Adrien just shoots her another smile and moves into the bakery, pausing just long enough to let Plagg dive into his pocket before he goes behind the counter and out into the kitchen. Papa’s joyful shout follows a moment later. Marinette sighs, letting the door swing shut behind her. She leans against it for a moment, looking at the place where the limo was. Tikki flies over and lands on Marinette’s shoulder, looking at her inquisitively.

“What’s wrong?” she asks.

“I feel bad,” Marinette admits. “I wish there was something I could do to make Chloé feel better. Is that weird? I still hate her, but I don’t want her to be miserable.”

Tikki smiles. “It’s not weird at all. That just means you’re a good person who doesn’t like seeing other people unhappy.”

“Ugh, sometimes I wish I wasn’t a good person.”

“No, you don’t. Then you wouldn’t be Ladybug, and you wouldn’t have me!”

“Well, that’s true,” Marinette says, giving her kwami a quick nuzzle. “Still. I remember all those years I thought Chat was just flirting with me, and that he didn’t really like me. It made me feel awful. I can’t imagine how it would’ve felt for him to tell me that was the truth.”

“Adrien never flirted with Chloé, though,” Tikki points out. “Because he doesn’t love her that way. Chloé just wanted him to.”

“I can’t blame her for that. Adrien’s pretty amazing.”

“He is,” Tikki agrees. “Chloé will get over this, Marinette. Everyone has to deal with heartbreak. It’s a part of growing up.”

“I guess.” Marinette sighs and moves away from the door, pausing to rub a smudge off one of the display cases. Bottom line is, there’s nothing she can do for Chloé. It’s not like she and Chloé are friends, and, even if they were, Marinette would still be the _last_ person Chloé wants to see right now considering that Adrien picked her over Chloé.

No, the best thing to do right now is let Chloé lick her wounds in private. 

“It’ll be okay. Really,” Tikki says gently. 

“Thanks, Tikki,” Marinette says. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Tikki giggles. “Sure you do. You’d flounder around and embarrass yourself in front of Adrien a lot more.”

“What – hey!” Marinette swats at her, but Tikki dodges, still giggling.

“Marinette!” Maman calls.

They both freeze. Then Tikki makes a mad dash for Marinette’s pocket, scrambling inside just as Maman steps out of the kitchen. Marinette pastes on her biggest, most innocent smile, which of course only makes Maman look at her with narrowed eyes. 

“Who were you talking to?” Maman asks.

“No one,” Marinette says quickly. “I was just, um, thinking out loud that I feel bad for Chloé. She likes Adrien.”

Maman frowns, then sighs. “I wondered if it was something like that when I saw her show up here. I hope he let her down gently.”

“He did. Adrien would never be cruel.”

“It’s easier than you think to be accidentally cruel when it comes to matters of the heart. I hope she won’t end up akumatized.”

Marinette shrugs, bending down to finish putting the rest of the pastries into the display case. At least that way, she can hide her face. “I don’t think she will be. By tomorrow morning, Chloé will be acting like she never liked Adrien at all.”

“Hmm,” Maman says. “Make sure you’re kind to her when you go back to school, Marinette.”

“I’ll be as kind to her as she is to me.”

“Marinette.”

“What?” Marinette glances up, pouting. “I’ve told you what a bully she can be.”

Maman gives her a look, then shakes her head. “Hurry up and finish. I have to run some errands and do some deliveries, so I’ll be leaving you here to watch the front by yourself.”

“Okay, Maman,” Marinette says, glad that they no longer have to talk about Chloé. She’s pretty sure Chloé will either ignore her and Adrien when they go back to school, or act like nothing happened and keep being her typical bitchy self to Marinette. There’s a small chance that she might try to take Adrien away, but Marinette doubts that: whatever Adrien said to her outside seemed to sink in deep.


	26. Chapter 26

The after school rush, followed by the after work rush, keeps Marinette so busy for the next couple of hours she barely has time to think, much less worry about Chloé. The bakery is busy enough that she stays to keep helping her maman until they close. Her feet are positively _aching_ by the time Marinette flips the door sign to closed and locks the door. She wants nothing more than to go upstairs and take a very long hot shower, but she also knows there are closing procedures to be done. 

"Go on upstairs, Marinette," Maman says, opening the cash register to being the daily count. "You've done more than your fair share."

"Are you sure, Maman?"

"Absolutely. You and Adrien have been so helpful today. Papa and I really appreciate it." Maman smiles at her. "Go shower. I'm going to want to do the same as soon as I'm done down here."

"Okay." Marinette muffles a yawn with her hand as she slowly climbs the stairs. Even with all her stamina from being Ladybug, she still finds working in the bakery to be exhausting. She thinks about how today could've gone if Hawkmoth had still been around and Chloé got akumatized: she and Adrien would've both had to make excuses to her parents and run out in the middle of helping. They would've had to deal with the akuma as fast as they could and then get back to the bakery, which would've left Marinette even more exhausted than she is now. She shudders at the thought.

In the bathroom, she strips down and climbs into the shower. A groan of relief escapes her as the hot water pours down on her aching shoulders, and Tikki giggles. 

"Are you sore?" she asks.

"Yeah, a bit. Kneading bread is hard work. If I don't do it for a bit, my muscles don't like it." Marinette leans her head forward and sighs as the spray starts to ease the tension in her muscles. She stands there for at least two minutes before, figuring that her maman will get mad if there's no hot water left, washes her hair and body. It feels good to be clean again; she had flour in places where flour should never be.

Two kwamis look up at her when she pulls open the shower curtain. Marinette blinks at Plagg. "When did you come in here?"

"I followed you in," Plagg says.

"Why?"

He shrugs. "Adrien was washing dishes and getting a little too close to water for my taste."

Marinette considers that and then shrugs, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around herself. She used to get awkward about being naked around Tikki, but that faded away pretty fast. It's just too hard when Tikki is with her literally twenty-four hours a day. And besides, considering all the Ladybugs that Tikki has had over the years, there's no question that Tikki has seen it all and then some. She figures that Plagg is probably the same way - and besides, she could get mad at Plagg for sneaking into the bathroom, but really what's the point? It's Plagg.

"How is he doing?" she asks, taking another towel to dry her hair. She rubs it briskly and then peers into the mirror, realizing that her hair is getting a little long and that she's probably going to be due for a haircut soon.

"As well as can be expected. Seeing Chloé today shook him up, but then your papa showed him how to bake cookies. He's really proud." Plagg sighs. "Now if I can just convince him to learn to make cheese cookies..."

"Cheese cookies?" Tikki says, sounding appalled. "Why? Why would anyone ruin a cookie with _cheese_?"

"Excuse you, cheese would vastly improve those gross, sugary things," Plagg says.

Tikki's mouth hangs open and she sputters. Plagg smirks at her. Marinette rolls her eyes and stands back as Tikki literally makes a dive for Plagg and knocks him right off the edge of the counter. She ignores the squabbling kwamis as she brushes her hair, then finishes drying herself off and gets dressed in her pajamas. It's only once she's ready to leave the bathroom that she separates them, shoving each kwami into a pocket of her bathrobe as she leaves. Even then, she can still hear Tikki's indignant "Cheese! Cheese cookies!" all the way downstairs.

"My Lady!" Adrien accosts her the second she walks into the kitchen. His eyes are shining as he presents her with a plate of chocolate chip cookies.

“Wow, Adrien, these look amazing,” Marinette says.

“I don’t know that I would say that. They’re a little burnt.”

Marinette picks up a cookie and bites into it. “I like my cookies well done,” she says, licking her lips. Adrien’s eyes track the movement of her tongue unconsciously. “They taste delicious! Excellent job, _mon minou_.”

He beams with pride. "Your papa showed me how to make them. This is actually my third batch. My first two didn't come out so good."

"You should hear about all the mistakes I've made over the years," Marinette says wryly. 

"Okay." He puts the plate down on the table and looks at her expectantly.

"Go shower first, before Maman comes up. You're covered in baking ingredients." She pokes his cheek, which is covered in - hmm, not flour like she thought, but baking soda. "I'll make you a suprise while you're gone."

Adrien looks suitably intrigued by the idea of a surprise, and quickly heads upstairs. Marinette takes another cookie and passes it off to Tikki, then heads upstairs into her bedroom. Tonight, they're going to cuddle on her bed and watch anime on her laptop until they both fall asleep and she doesn't even care what her parents are going to think. Adrien needs a really good night's sleep before tomorrow, because it's going to be a really long day for him.

While he's gone, she piles some extra blankets and pillows on the bed until there's barely enough room for the two of them to fit. Exactly how she wants it. She adds their Ladybug and Chat Noir dolls in the middle, along with her laptop. Then she heads down to the kitchen and collects Adrien's plate of cookies and microwaves some popcorn, adding cheese to a small bowl for Plagg. Those, along with two mugs of tea, are her final additions to the bed. She crawls up and makes herself comfortable, creating a cozy space for her kitty.

When the shower shuts off, it only takes a couple minutes before Adrien's head pops up through the trap door. His eyes widen when he sees her. "Princess?"

"Come here, _Chaton_ ," Marinette says, opening her arms to him.

He's up the ladder in a flash, clambering over the blankets until he can sink down into the space beside her. Marinette giggles as he makes himself comfortable, fussing around until he had his head on her shoulder and his right arm around her back. The left is draped casually across her lap, with the cookies, popcorn and his mug of tea within easy reach. She runs a hand through his hair before reaching out to drag her laptop closer, booting it up. She queues up the last episode of Sailor Moon that she remembers seeing and hits play.

They make it through the rest of the season before Adrien falls asleep, his breathing deep and slow. She keeps combing her fingers through his hair, occasionally rubbing at his scalp the way he likes, watching the show with half-lidded eyes. 

"Are you okay, Marinette?" Tikki asks softly.

"I'm worried," Marinette says. "Tomorrow... it's not going to be good."

"It'll be okay," says Plagg, sitting up to look at her. "The kid is stronger than you think. He'll be fine."

"I hope so," Marinette says, sighing and leaning her head on top of Adrien. 

"Plagg's right. So long as Ladybug and Chat Noir are together, thy can handle anything," says Tikki.

Marinette gives thm a tiny smile; she's not wholly sure they're right, but she appreciates that they're trying to comfort her. She gives both of them a pat on the head with her free hand, then wraps both arms around her kitty and snuggles in against him. It takes her a while to fall asleep, but eventually Adrien's breathing and Plagg's quiet purr lull her into sleep as well.

Thursday morning dawns clear and bright, though cold. After breakfast - during which Adrien eats very little, and Maman and Papa spend the whole time exchanging worried looks - Mainette dresses in a black dress with black tights and black flats, adding a green necklace and her charm bracelet at the last moment. Then she pulls on her jacket, zipping it up. She adds a black purse for Tikki and Plagg to hide in and then goes downstairs to where Adrien has just finished dressing in the suit and tie Nathalie sent over. His expression is downcast, troubled, but he attempts to smile when he sees her.

"Ready, My Lady?" he asks, offering her his arm.

"Ready. Let's go," Marinette says, taking his arm.

Maman and Papa join them, leaving the bakery in the hands of their other workers for the day. It means that she and Adrien can't really talk, so the drive is mostly silent. Adrien looks out the window, but she has the sneaking suspicion that he's not really seeing anything. 

When they arrive, the car takes them around back to where Nathalie is waiting for them. "Good morning," she says. "Adrien, Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng, Madame Cheng, Monsieur Dupain."

"Hi Nathalie," Adrien says, sounding subdued, and the rest of them added their own greetings.

"The schedule is fairly tight, since you indicated that you felt a short ceremony would be best," says Nathalie. "Anyone who is not on the list will not be permitted into the building; I've hired security to make sure that no one can sneak in. I do have a few photographers and journalist on the list, but they've all been warned about approaching you, Adrien. However, I don't think I need to tell you that you should be on your best behavior while they're here." She surveys Adrien, and then Marinette, with a critical look, like she's trying to find something wrong with the way they're dressed. Her eyes linger on Marinette's hair, tied into her trademark pigtails, but doesn’t call attention to it.

Instead, she adds, "The funeral director will conduct the ceremony, and we'll finish with speeches. Do you know what you're going to say?"

Marinette starts, shocked. Adrien just says, "Yes."

"Good. Keep it brief if you can. We'll finish things off with a receiving line, so that you can have a word with the people who came. There will also be a small reception. Monsieur Dupain, Madame Cheng, I assume you've had no problems filling our order?"

As Maman and Papa start talking to Nathalie, Marinette turns to Adrien. "You didn't tell me she wanted you to speak."

Adrien shrugs, looking at the ground. "She asked me if I would. She said it would look good."

"Are you sure you're okay with that?" Marinette says, trying hard not to sound as incredulous as she feels. What with how mixed up Adrien has to feel about his father, she's really not sure that Adrien speaking about him in public is a good idea.

"I said yes. I can't go back now," Adrien says, and she very much wants to tell him that he certainly can go back, but Nathalie turns them.

"Come along, Adrien. I'd like you to take your seat before we let people in."

Adrien immediately grabs Marinette's hand. "I want Marinette to sit next to me."

"Yes, I expected as much," Nathalie says, not blinking an eye. "Come along."

"We'll see you after, Marinette," Papa whispers, patting Marinette's shoulder. He and Maman give her small smiles, which only serves to increase Marinette's nerves. 

She and Adrien follow Nathalie into the building. Nathalie takes them through a couple of long hallways before they emerge into an enormous room that's got at least a couple hundred folding chairs in it. At the front of the room is a long table that has an urn along with several pictures of Gabriel Agreste. Adrien's grip tightens to the point of pain when his eyes land on the table, but he doesn't say anything. They walk up the long carpet and Nathalie directs them both into chairs in the front row, before she goes to talk to a tall man wearing a suit.

It feels strange to be in the front row, which is reserved for family. But Marinette supposes it's technically only right: Gabriel Agreste would have been, will be, her father-in-law, and the grandfather of the children she and Adrien have someday.

"I can't believe this is happening," Adrien says, still staring at the table.

Marinette swallows. "I know." She winces when she hears the doors behind them open, and twists around to see dozens of people spilling into the room. Amongst the sea of strangers, she spots their classmates led by Nino and Alya. Alya gives her a small wave and Marinette musters up a small smile. Here they go.


	27. Chapter 27

Once everyone is seated, the man Nathalie was speaking to moves to the podium. "Good morning," he says. "I am Monsieur Gagnon, and I will conducting this funeral today. We are here to honor Monsieur Gabriel Agreste, a prominent fashion designer who touched the lives and hearts of many with his creativity. Please, let us begin with a moment of silence for Monsieur Agreste."

The hall goes so quiet that Marinette can hear the way Adrien's purring; her heart sinks at the realization that he's _that_ upset. She squeezes his hand, watching as a couple of women move around and light several candles. Two of the candles are set on the table on either side of the urn. She stares at it and wonders if Gabriel can see them right now. Wonders if he knows that Ladybug and Chat Noir are here at his funeral. Wonders if he knows that they've kept his secret, and that he's getting a funeral that he doesn't deserve.

"Thank you," Monsieur Gagnon says at last. "First to speak will be Monsieur Agreste's assistant, Nathalie Sancoeur."

Nathalie takes the podium. Only now does Marinette take in her outfit, which doesn't look much different than the standard suit Nathalie usually wears. "Monsieur Agreste was a determined man," Nathalie begins, her eyes clear behind her glasses. "He was never afraid to go after what he wanted. Agreste Fashions began as nothing more than a man with a dream, and gradually was built into the empire that it is now."

She goes on to talk about the company, how Gabriel worked tirelessly to make his name and his designs a force to be reckoned with. At one point Marinette would've listened with fascination, making mental notes for her own future, but right now it's nothing that she wants to hear. She feels like she can't trust in anything that Gabriel said or did, because who knows what kind of underhanded things he was involved with? He was Hawkmoth for crying out loud! She schools her face into the best blank expression that she can come up with and looks at Nathalie like she's listening, when really she's not.

After Nathalie, some other people get up to speak too. There's a rival designer that Gabriel has been competing against for years, an older woman who claims to have known Gabriel since he was a child, a few other people from the business, and a man who was Gabriel's assistant before Nathalie. At the heart, their stories are all similar: they describe Gabriel Agreste as a man who was fiercely passionate about anything that he did and who fearlessly charged at any barrier that tried to cross his path. It all translates so eerily well to Hawkmoth that Marinette shivers.

And then Gabriel's former assistant says, "And of course, I would be remiss if I didn't mention the love of Gabriel's life."

Adrien stiffens.

"I'll never forget the day that Gabriel met Émilie," the man says, leaning against the podium with a fond smile. "He was never much interested in people before that, but something about Émilie made him sit up and take notice. From day one, he thought the world of her. Up until their son was born, Émilie was the only thing that captivated Gabriel enough to forget about design."

Until their son was born. Marinette bites her lip, unsure whether to quantify the feeling surging through her as grief or anger. When she thinks about the injuries that Chat used to show up with on patrol, the injuries that have only just finished healing, she doesn't think anyone can claim that Gabriel loved his son. It's not a stretch to think that the same can probably be said for his wife. It's probably a good thing that she doesn't have to speak today, because she's not sure she would be able to keep from telling everyone here exactly what kind of man Gabriel really was.

"The world is truly a bleaker place without Gabriel," the man concludes, and Marinette snorts softly. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees a fleeting smile cross Adrien's face before it's gone just as quickly.

When it's Adrien's turn, he clearly has to force himself to let go of Marinette's hand in order to walk up to the podium. Adrien is taller than she is by a good few inches, but standing up there he looks impossibly small. Marinette digs her nails into her thighs, fighting against the urge to run up and stand beside him. She knows this is something Adrien has to do alone, and yet she also thinks it's not fair to ask that of him. Even if his relationship with Gabriel wasn't what it was, it still seems unfair to ask a child to talk about their parent at their funeral - and all for the sake of making things _look good_.

Adrien looks at her, and only at her, as he begins. "Thank you for coming here today. I know that my father would be very happy that all of you have taken the time out of your busy lives to say goodbye," he says, voice quiet but firm. "I would like to thank you all personally on his behalf. My father was not always an easy man to get along with, and I'm sure that he crossed some of you at some point."

A low murmur sweeps through the crowd behind her. Out of the corner of her eye, Marinette sees a few people shifting uneasily.

"Yet you've come anyway, to help celebrate the life of a mo - man." Adrien stutters briefly, and Marinette can't be sure but she almost wonders if he wasn't about to say 'monster'. Her heart absolutely _breaks_ for her poor kitty.

He recovers though, continuing with, "A man who, as others have mentioned, lived for fashion and design. I would like to assure everyone that, even without my father, Agreste Fashions will not fade away. I have plans to attend university and get a degree in fashion. My partner and I will keep the company running. It is my hope that my father would have been proud that his legacy will continue to walk the catwalk."

A few people chuckle, and Adrien smiles humorlessly. "I remember my father as the man he was when I was a child. Full of big ideas, full of _life_. That is how I would ask all of you to remember him as well." He turns away from the podium and bows curtly to the urn, then quickly descends the stairs. Marinette rises to meet him automatically, her arms already open, and he grabs her and hugs so tightly that it actually hurts. She wraps her arms around him.

Then Nathalie is there, laying a hand on Marinette's shoulder and ushering the two of them through a door at the side of the hall that Marinette hadn't even noticed. It leads to a small room, which Marinette guesses is probably for situations exactly like this. Nathalie shuts the door and leaves them alone, leaving Marinette to guide her kitty over to a chair and help him to sit down. She squeaks in surprise when Adrien drags her into his lap as he sinks down into the chair, though she recovers quickly and kisses his temple.

"Shh, shh. You did so good, Adrien. You did so good," she whispers.

"I wanted to say more, but I couldn't. I just couldn't stand there and pretend like - like I don't hate him," Adrien says, tears rolling down his cheeks.

Marinette's purse pops open and Plagg bursts out. "Kid, you said exactly as much as you should've!"

"Plagg's right," Tikki says. "You said more than he deserved."

Adrien tries to smile. "Thanks guys."

"Do you want to leave?" Marinette asks. "We can, you know. You don't have to stay."

He shakes his head. "No. It wouldn't be fair to Nathalie."

Marinette purses her lips, wishing that for once Adrien would just be selfish and think about himself first. She catches her exasperation mirrored in Plagg's face, but now is not the time to say anything. Instead, she combs Adrien's bangs away from his wet face and presses a kiss to both of his cheeks, then his nose, then his forehead, before finally kisisng him on the mouth. He kisses her back, tasting of salt and tears, before pulling away to rest his head on her shoulder.

They sit there for several minutes until there’s a knock on the door. Adrien wipes his face as Plagg and Tikki dive out of sight and calls out, “Come in.”

Nathalie opens the door. “Adrien, it’s time for the receiving line.”

“Right. We’ll be out in a moment,” Marinette says. For a moment it looks like Nathalie might argue, but then she doesn’t. The door closes behind her.

“Did I mention how glad I am that you’re here?” Adrien says.

“Of course I’m here. I couldn’t be anywhere else.”

“Do I look awful?”

Marinette turns to him and examines his face. “You look like you’ve been crying.”

His mouth turns down. “Got any make-up?”

“Not with me,” Marinette says, cursing herself for the lack of oversight. “But wait here, okay? I’ll be right back.” She drops another kiss on his cheek and then hurries over to the door.

The room is still full of people, of course, and all eyes go immediately to Marinette. She ignores them as best she can, walking quickly over to where their classmates are seated at the back of the hall. Alya reaches out a hand when she gets close enough and Marinette takes it, glad her best friend is sitting at the end of the aisle, crouching down so that at least people can’t stare at her quite so blatantly.

“What’s up?” Alya whispers. Nino drapes himself over Alya’s shoulder so he can listen too.

“Any of you got make-up? Adrien doesn’t want to look like he’s been crying,” Marinette whispers back. 

Alya screws her face up. “My make-up won’t match his skin tone.”

“Hang on,” Nino says, turning to whisper to Alix. Alix turns to Kim, who turns to Max, who turns to Juleka, and so on and so forth. 

“How are you holding up?” Alya asks quietly. “You look pale.”

“It’s awful, Alya. Adrien is so messed up over this.” Marinette wants to say more but she can’t right here. She gives Alya a significant look, and Alya nods in understanding.

“We’re here for you both, Girl. You got this,” Alya says.

“Here,” Nino says, leaning over again. He passes a purse into Marinette’s hands. Marinette’s eyes shoot up when she sees the brand name. There’s only one person who this could’ve come from.

“Thanks,” she says, because beggers can’t be choosers, and also Chloé and Adrien really are pretty similar in skin tone. They’re both super pale. 

Alya squeezes her hand before letting go. Marinette stands and catches sight of Chloé, surprisingly sitting at the end of the row their classmates have filled. Chloé nods at her. Marinette hesitates briefly before nodding back, then scurries back up the rows with the yellow purse clutched in her hands. She lets herself back into the room, shuddering once the door is shut behind her. All those _eyes_.

“Princess?” Adrien asks, looking at her strangely, and she shakes her head.

“Nothing. Here. Chloé had some make-up.”

“Oh, perfect. She and I usually use the same stuff.” Adrien takes the purse and opens it, rifling through until he finds concealer. Marinette moves to hold a mirror up for him, watching as he quickly dabs it on and blends it. At her suggestion, he goes the extra step of adding a little blush to better hide the pallor of his cheeks.

His eyes are still red-rimmed when she’s done, but he looks a lot better. He puts everything back into the purse and hands it over to Marinette, who loops it over her shoulder until she can give it back to Chloé. She shoos Tikki and Plagg back into her own purse and takes Adrien’s hand. He gives her a weak smile. Marinette smiles back before opening the door to let Nathalie in.

They exit the small room via a second door at the back of the room. Nathalie leads them around to the front of the building and stations Adrien at the door of the hall, so that people can see him as they exit on their way to the reception. Adrien tightens his grip on Marinette and drags her up to stand beside him. It’s not exactly proper – she and Adrien aren’t married, and to the knowledge of the rest of the world have only been dating a few weeks – and Marinette can tell by the look on Nathalie’s face that Nathalie doesn’t like it.

“Adrien,” Nathalie says, eyes flicking between them.

“Marinette stands with me or I don’t stand here at all,” Adrien says, setting his jaw. It’s the same stubborn look Chat gets whenever he disagrees with a plan, and Marinette knows there’s no changing his mind.

Nathalie seems to know that too, judging by the way she sighs. “Very well. But Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng, if you’d at least take a step or two back?”

“Sure,” Marinette says, quickly shuffling back a bit. It puts Adrien at the focus, which doesn’t make him happy. But Nathalie gives an approving nod, then tells the employee to go ahead and open the doors.

It’s… it’s _overwhelming_. Marinette can’t think of any other word to describe it. The people inside the hall have been organized into a loose line, and they come out in clumps of twos and threes. They all want to talk to Adrien, telling him how sorry they are about his father. Adrien accepts their platitudes with polite nods and short sentences, but his grip on Marinette’s hand is so tight that her fingers go numb within the first ten minutes.

She’s not at all surprised when she somehow ends up right beside him again, so that they’re both receiving the condolences. People look at Marinette with no recognition in their eyes, of course, yet they act like she’s lost Gabriel too just by virtue of the fact that she’s standing there. Which isn’t _wrong_ , exactly, but it’s also so far from right it makes her stomach twist.

For Adrien, she plasters a somber expression on her face and accepts the comments with grace. “Thank you for coming,” she says, over and over again. “Yes, it was very unexpected. Such a shock. We appreciate you being here. Thank you.”

Some of the guests say their piece and quickly move on, cognizant of the long line behind them. But others are pushy. They pry for gory details about Gabriel’s death, or want to know intimate details about what will happen to Adrien and the company. Marinette tries to fend them off as best she can, but their eyes slide right over her. And Adrien is too polite to tell them off the way they deserve.

And then, miraculously, Chloé appears on Adrien’s opposite side. “I’m sure you understand that Adrien can’t share that kind of information right now,” she says with an icy smile. 

“Oh,” the man says, drawing back. “I – of course.”

Adrien relaxes slightly. “Thanks Chlo,” he whispers.

Chloé just sniffs, drawing herself up. Every person that approaches after that is subjected to a cold stare that only grows frostier with every minute that person dwindles. It quickly becomes a system: Adrien stands there and nods, Marinette accepts the condolences on his behalf, and Chloé intimidates people into moving along. The faces swiftly become a blur, and Marinette loses track of how many times she says the same things.

She remembers seeing her maman and papa; Maman sets a hand on Adrien’s shoulder and gives it a gentle squeeze, like she wants to hug him but recognizes that it’s not the right time. Papa pats Marinette’s hand and leans in to whisper in her ear that he’s proud of her. The quiet comment is almost, but not quite, enough to make Marinette tear up, and she finds herself blinking rapidly for a few seconds.

Alya, Nino and their classmates come through next with Madame Bustier on their heels; Alya touches Adrien’s arm and says softly, “I’m really sorry, Adrien.”

“Thanks Alya,” Adrien whispers back.

“Sorry Dude,” Nino adds.

“Thanks Nino.”

Their friends file by. Marinette smiles at them all, beyond grateful that they’ve come. Seeing them, and her maman and papa, seem to give Adrien the bolstering he needs to get through the rest of the line. But by the time the last person has walked past, she’s exhausted and she can tell that Adrien is too. She jerks her head at Chloé, who grabs Adrien’s other arm, and they walk him over to some chairs.

“Just sit for a minute,” Marinette says, pushing him down. He lets go of her hand, and she’s not surprised to see her fingers have gone white. She flexes them absently while checking the time, realizing that the receiving line took at least two hours. No wonder they’re tired.

“Thanks Chlo,” Adrien says again, turning to Chloé.

“It was nothing. Shame on Nathalie for just leaving you there,” Chloé says, looking angry. “She knows what people can be like. She should’ve been standing there ushering people on.”

Marinette nods in agreement. “I don’t even know where she is… I assume she must be in the receiving room.” 

“Probably,” Chloé says, crossing her arms over her chest. She’s wearing a black dress like Marinette, with a black jacket and shoes. Her hair is in a low ponytail, tied at the base of her neck with a black ribbon. 

“Do you want to go in?” Marinette asks Adrien. “You don’t have to.”

Adrien hesitates long enough that she thinks maybe he won’t, but finally he shakes his head. “I should. For a few minutes. To be seen.”

“Okay,” Marinette says, but she doesn’t like it, and she’s pretty sure she sees her emotions reflected in Chloé’s face. 

Slowly, Adrien gets to his feet. With Marinette on one side and Chloé on the other, they walk towards the room Nathalie indicated earlier. Marinette is relieved to see that several people have left, and that maybe half the group who attended the funeral are still here. It makes entering the room feel a little stressful, especially because she spots their classmates immediately and subtly nudges Adrien in their direction.

“Dude! How are you doing?” Nino asks, jumping up as they approach.

“I’ve been better,” Adrien says.

“How about a glass of water?” Alya says, appearing at Nino’s side as though by magic.

“That would be nice,” Adrien says with a wan smile, and he slips out from between Marinette and Chloé to accompany Alya and Nino over to the elaborate refreshment table. Without Adrien there was a buffer between them, Marinette immediately feels the weight of Chloé’s gaze boring into the side of her head.

"Look," Chloé says finally. "I don't really like you, Dupain-Cheng. If I could extract you out of Adrien's life, I would in a heartbeat." She looks away from Marinette, towards Adrien. "But I can't. For some reason, Adrien really cares about you. And even if you weren't in the picture... he wouldn't love me that way. He said I'm like a sister to him." She was trying, Marinette could tell, to sound unaffected, but the slightest hint of a tell-tale quiver was there in her voice.

"I'm sorry that he couldn't return your feelings the way he wanted you to," Marinette says quietly. Having your heart broken sucks, no matter who you are.

Chloé huffs. "I guess I should've seen it coming. Adrikins was never as into me as I was into him. Maybe if he hadn't gone to school..." She trails off, shaking her head. "Anyway. The point is, I'm Adrien's sister and that means I reserve the right to kick your ass if you hurt him. Got it?"

In spite of it all, Marinette finds herself smiling. "Thank you, Chloé."

"Um, what? You did hear me threatening to kick your ass, right?"

"Yeah. I also heard you trying to protect Adrien. God knows there's too few people who have tried to do that over the years," Marinette says, and Chloé looks at her sharply with a calculating gaze.

"His father sure didn't," Chloé says, and right then Marinette knows that Chloé either outright knows about the abuse, or has formed some good suspicions.

"No, he didn't," Marinette agrees. "He was a selfish bastard and I'm glad he's dead." She lets a little of her rage seep into her voice. "I only wish that it didn't mean Adrien was left to pick up the pieces."

"I'm glad he's dead too," Chloé says, which might be the only thing they've ever agreed on. "But Adrikins will be okay. He's a lot tougher than most people give him credit for." She glances back towards Adrien, her eyes soft. 

"He is."

"So again. If you hurt him, I'll kill you."

"That escalated fast," Marinette mutters.

Chloé shrugs a shoulder. "Just telling you how it is from the get-go. You've got your claws into something really special. Don't fuck it up." She snags her purse from Marinette's shoulder. "Now take our boy home, got it?"

"Got it," Marinette says, turning to approach Adrien. He's drinking from a glass of water and trying to smile at whatever Rose is telling him, but she can tell that he's hit his limit. His eyes are kind of unfocused, and his shoulders are slumped, and he just looks like he needs to sit down and have a good cry. She moves to stand next to him, sending Ivan a thankful look for giving her the space to do so, and lays a gentle hand on her kitty's shoulder.

"Time to go?" Alya asks.

"Time to go, and I'm not accepting any arguments," Marinette says, taking the glass from Adrien's hand and setting it back on the table. "Come on, _ma moitié_. Let's go home."

" _Ma moitié_?" Alya repeats under her breath. Rose squeals.

Marinette ignores them both, guiding Adrien over to the door. He goes with her, not protesting. Her maman and papa must have been watching because they reach the exit at the same time as Marinette and Adrien. Maman opens the door and ushers them through. Papa wraps a big arm around both of them and shields them as they leave the building, trying to prevent the photographers outside from getting a picture. Before Marinette knows it, they're back in the car and pulling away from the building.


	28. Chapter 28

They're all quiet on the drive back to the bakery, and, when they get there, Adrien announces that he's going upstairs to take a shower. Plagg darts out of Marinette's purse and takes off after him, thankfully avoiding both Maman's and Papa's eyes in the process. Marinette watches him go, feeling like her chest is full of shards of glass. She hurts _so much_ for her poor kitty, but there's nothing she can do. It's like Tikki said, all those weeks ago: there are some things that Ladybug can't fix, no matter how much she might want to.

"How are you doing?" Maman asks, tucking a stray strand of hair behind Marinette's ear.

"It was hard," Marinette says, leaning against her maman. It feels really good when Maman hugs her, and she lays her head on her maman's shoulders. What would it be like to attend a funeral for her parents? Awful, no doubt, but also not so... _lonely_. That's the only way that Marinette can think to describe it. 

Adrien was alone all day. Nathalie may have been hovering around on the outkirts, but she wasn't really _there_. If it weren't for Marinette and Chloé, Marinette's parents and their classmates, Adrien would have been completely alone. No one else was there for him; everyone else was just there to be seen. She can't imagine anything worse than that.

"I know, _ma petite_. But you did so well. You were really strong for Adrien today."

"I had to be. He needed me to be the strong one for once," Marinette says. All those battles they fought, whenever Ladybug faltered, Chat always let her lean against him. Whenever she didn’t know what to do, it was his kind, uplifting words that kept her going. And now it's her turn to pay him back for all of those times.

Maman smiles. "You're both much stronger than you think you are," she says, which is eerily close to what Chloé said. "You and Adrien should take it easy tonight. I think Papa and I are going to go out for dinner... unless you want us nearby?"

Marinette thinks about it and shakes her head. "No, I don't think Adrien will be up for much tonight. Can we order pizza?"

"Of course. I'll leave you some money. Order whatever you like." Maman leans in closer, dropping her voice to a whisper. "And you can feel free to sleep in your bed again tonight."

"Oh, uh, right," Marinette says awkwardly. "Thanks, Maman. Thanks for coming to the funeral and, well, for everything."

"It was our pleasure, Marinette. Adrien is such a nice boy. It's a shame he's alone in the world." Maman shakes her head. "We'll have to be his family now."

"Right," Marinette says, beaming.

"If you need us, call me," Maman says. 

"I will. Bye, Maman."

Marinette heads upstairs to change as her parents leave, because she doesn't think Adrien will want to see her in the clothing she wore to his father's funeral. She lets Tikki out of her purse and then strips out of her clothing, tossing the dress into the back of her closet - it'll be a long time before she wears it again, if ever. Normally she tries not to give clothing away, preferring instead to repurpose the cloth into something new that fits better or is more her style. But in this case, she thinks she'll make an exception and just get rid of the dress and the bad memories it holds.

"Your maman was right. You did really well today," Tikki says as Marinette drops down onto her chaise.

"Ugh, Tikki, it was so hard," Marinette says, draping an arm over her eyes.

"But you did it for Adrien. I'm sure he really appreciates it."

"I'm sure he does too." Marinette moves her arm, peeking out as her kwami lands on her bent knees. "Do you really think Adrien will be okay? Maman and Papa both seem to think that he will, but they don't know the whole story. They don't know that Gabriel was Hawkmoth, or that he almost killed Chat and me so many times, or that Gabriel was abusive."

Tikki looks thoughtful. "I think Adrien will be fine with time, but I also think that both of you have been through a lot. Have you put any thought into Master Fu's suggestion to talk to someone?"

"Um, not really. I guess I could look that girl up now. What was her name again?"

"Dr. Mei Fu."

Mei Fu. Marinette grabs her phone and googles the woman. She gets loads of results right off the bat. Some, like research papers, aren't that interesting to her, since most of them are written in a dry, academic, highly technical language that goes way over her head. But others are. She starts off by finding Dr. Fu's website. It's fairly straightforward, with simple language that's easier to understand. There are plenty of customer testimonials, but Marinette’s shopped enough online to know that you can't go by those alone. She leaves the website and googles more reviews.

She's so involved with her research that she misses Adrien entering the room until water is dribbled over her forehead. She yelps in shock. "Adrien!"

"Sorry, were you busy?" he asks, all innocence, and drapes a towel over his sopping hair. Behind him, Plagg cackles and flies over to where Tikki is resting in her cocoon. Marinette hears a similar, startled squawk come from Tikki and rolls her eyes. Cats.

"You're a cat, not a dog," Marinette says, wiping her forehead. 

He pushes the towel up to smirk at her. "Your cat, My Lady?"

The hint of uncertainty in his voice is like an arrow to the heart. "Of course you are. All mine. Come over here."

Adrien drops the towel on the floor and is on the chaise in the blink of an eye, curling up half on top of her. "What were you looking at so intently?"

"Dr. Mei Fu. It seems like she's pretty well renowned. Most of her reviews are positive," Marinette says, picking up her phone with her free hand. 

He nods slowly. "I think we should talk to her."

"You do?"

"Yeah."

"I think we should too," Marinette admits.

They look at each other for a moment.

"Marinette?" Adrien says softly.

"Yes, _Chaton_?"

"I meant what I said at the funeral. I really want the two of us to keep Agreste Fashions going. Together. I can't do it without you."

Marinette's throat gets tight. "Adrien..."

"I can't do it without you," he says quietly. "I need you by my side."

"Is that a proposal?" Marinette asks, not sure if she's joking or not.

Adrien looks completely serious. "Yes. I'll buy you a promise ring for your next birthday. We'll have been dating for just over seven months by then, so no one will think that's weird. And then, for your 18th birthday, I'll buy you an engagement ring. If that's something you want, that is."

"Yes." Marinette doesn't even need to think about it. "Yes, Adrien. But I don't want to get married until we're through university, okay?"

"Of course," Adrien says, and for the first time in days there's a sparkle back in his eyes. "I just - I need to know that the two of us are going to get through this."

"Oh, _mon minou_ , that was never any doubt. I love you. I love you _so much_." Marinette wraps both her arms around him, pulling him closer. "You're stuck with me."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Adrien says, nuzzling into her hair. "You know what I thought of while I was in the shower?"

"What?"

"We forgot all about the contest."

Marinette freezes, realizing that he's right. "Well, shit."

"Right?" Adrien sighs. "What do you think we should do?"

"I don't know..." Marinette is quiet for a moment, thinking. Their timeline for the contest was already tight, because she and Adrien were about three and a half weeks behind when they started. Add in the week and a half they've lost to all of this, and they're now _five weeks_ behind. They've only got about five weeks until the deadline. Her heart sinks and her eyes start to prickle as she realizes how impossible that is.

Even if they devoted every waking moment to trying to make things happen, she doesn’t think they’ll make it. Not when they’re both going to be behind on schoolwork. Not when they both have to go back to school, and Adrien has to figure everything else out with Nathalie. He’s going to be exhausted, Marinette knows. His heart won’t be in anything that they try to design together.

"I think we should withdraw," Adrien says.

"You want to give up?" The idea makes her shoulders draw up around her ears in spite of the fact that she knows it’s probably best, but Adrien's shaking his head.

"Withdraw, not give up," he corrects, grasping her hand and bringing it in for a kiss. "Bugaboo, I would rather withdraw than submit something I'm not proud of. And we would have to skip school and devote every single second of our time over the next five weeks to get two designs fully completed. That's just not realistic."

It should be impossible to go from happy to sad this fast, but somehow Marinette's managed it. "I really thought we could win it," she says shakily.

"I think we could've too," Adrien says. "Maybe they'll do another competition next year. And if they don't..."

"If they don't?"

"We can pay for university. We have money."

"Adrien, I'm not going to let you pay for my education!" Marinette says.

Adrien half-sits up, looking down at her very seriously. "Marinette, it's not just my money. It's _our_ money. You're my partner; as far as I'm concerned, everything I have is yours."

"You can't mean that," Marinette says weakly.

"I mean it with all of my heart. Please, Princess. I really want us to go to university together and do like Plagg said. I want us to tear my father's company apart. I want us to remake it in our image until people don't even think of Gabriel Agreste when they hear of Agreste Fashions. I know it can be done, but I can't do it by myself. I need you with me." He looks at her imploringly, so _earnestly_ , with his heart written in his eyes.

She can't bring herself to say no. This is about more than pride. Marinette reaches up to cup his face. "Okay. If we haven't won any scholarships by the time we go to university, okay."

His face splits into a brilliant smile and he swoops down to kiss her. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me! It's gonna cost a fortune!" Marinette says.

"We can afford it," Adrien says, so easily that her heart skips a beat. 

"Silly kitty," she mutters, rolling over and wiggling down until she can hide her face in his chest. Adrien chuckles. It's such a lovely sound, and one that she's missed. She thinks, hopes, that she might get the chance to hear it more now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who read, left kudos, and commented on this fic. Reading your feedback was amazing. This is the end of the story, but rest assured that Marinette and Adrien go on to have the best revenge against Gabriel possible: they marry, have kids, and kick ass in the fashion world.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://tsuki-chibi.tumblr.com/).


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